GM Elberion's Gallows of Madness (PFS) (Inactive)

Game Master Dennis Muldoon

So, spirit sense is a supernatural ability that functions like a spell. You need to activate it and point it in a direction. And it requires concentration. I know we're not in combat but let's say that you spend three rounds scanning upstairs with spirit sense before paging through a journal. That seems fair.

Grel's sense peer into the mystic and senses some kind of faint outsider presence in the southern room.

I'll keep that in mind, thanks.

Grel steps carefully to the door and whispers to the team. There's something in the room. An outsider, potentially. Harada, bring that iron.

Verathis steps out into the hall to a point he can see the door. He leans against the wall, puts his hands behind his head as a pillow, and watches.

Ink can feel the curiosity and interest of his master and he runs to in front of the door near the opposite wall to pounce whatever comes out.

Harada nods and heads over to the door and holds up 2 fingers, raises his eyebrows and waves 2 fingers at everybody as he speaks "Gonna open on three... One...Tw"

Harada shoves the door open and steps back leaving Ink in front.

This small room contains a simple bed, desk, and chair. Thick webs cover the west end of the room, where the bed sits—and two humanoid forms appear trapped within. Sticky, purplish-black strands cling to the desk and chair on the east side of the room, except in one spot where the strange filaments have left a clear space around a small piece of metal.

This room contains a serious amount of demon's bile, and an even more serious amount of giant spider!

Initiative!

initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Grel peers through the door opposite the fiend.

nature: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Primary attack? Weakness?

And wants a look at that piece of metal.

perc: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

She's got a nasty bite, crew, poisonous. There's a cold iron arrowhead in the middle of that room. Perhaps standing over it is protection enough from the bile.

waiting for initiative

init: 5 + 1d20 ⇒ 5 + (17) = 22

initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

initiative: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (13) + 0 = 13

Initiative is simple, spider goes after everyone.

You see the spider pause for a second as it in the midst of extruding strands of web.

Party may act!

Carson heads towards the doorway. When he arrives he launches another dagger at the spider.

Dagger: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

The dagger flies true until it meets a strand of web and is deflected harmlessly into the ceiling.

Grel walks into the room on the near side and stands over (by?) the arrowhead. He brings his hammer down on the spider.

hammer: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 181d8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

Harada heads in to smash the spider with the morningstar.

smash: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Carson's dagger quivers in the ceiling.

Meanwhile, Grel and Harada swing as four glossy, emotionless eyes turn to them.

Grel's hammer smashes into the beast's abdomen, a spray of yellow ichor splashing the ceiling. Harada's blow meanwhile, carves out only air.

Verathis and Johnny!

Ink valiantly charges in to fight the creature! sadly the legs of the others prevent a running start.
sting: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11 Damage: 1d4 - 4 ⇒ (1) - 4 = -3+ save Fort DC 10; frequency 1/round for 6 rounds; effect sickened for 1 round; cure 1 save.

Verathis wanders to the doorway and looks at the exact carnage he expected. Than he notes his familiars position in said carnage and screams in his native tongue.

Go, Johnny, go, go!

My computer is not loading the map at all today.
Johnny will move to a good clear shot position, being 15 feet away from the creature while getting a clear shot as he wants to see the monster up close hit: 5 - 4 + 1d20 ⇒ 5 - 4 + (13) = 14 firing into melee, someone may move him. dmg: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6

I put you in behind me, buddy

Johnny's arrow flashes through the chaos of battle, shooting under Harada's raised arm and driving deep into the spider's abdomen.
Skittering a deranged tap-dance, the creature wheels and bites at Grel.
bite: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

It's fangs sink into Grel's hide armour and Grel feels a strange warm damp as it's venom is released into the armour.

Everyone may act!

"Rahhhr!" Harada lets out a warcray as he goes to smash the spider.

smash: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Carson backs off to let the brawn handle the spider. He turns his attention to the two figures on the bed, "Are you okay?". Using his shortsword he begins to clear away the webs.

Foul beast, succumb to the might of the earth!

warhammer: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 31d8 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8

lol

With a mighty swing over arm, Harada crushes the creature.

As it twitches it's last, Carson begins to cut the forms from the web.
Both are alive, but barely, and certainly not conscious.

Grel picks up the arrowhead. Take this, Johnny. We may need it yet.

This small room contains a simple bed, desk, and chair. Thick webs cover the west end of the room, where the bed sits—and two humanoid forms appear trapped within. Sticky, purplish-black strands cling to the desk and chair on the east side of the room, except in one spot where the strange filaments have left a clear space around a small piece of metal.

Grel hands Johnny the cold-iron arrowhead.

To do so he has to reach across a mound of demon's bile. The arrowhead dissolves a few strands against which it brushes as he lifts it.

Another reminder, big pools of demon's pile spread and produce gross, giant, fiendish vermin. Cold-iron, good-aligned weapons and positive energy destroy it effortlessly.

One end of the room is full of bile, the other of spider-web strands.

As Carson cuts away, a middle-aged couple are revealed. They have clearly been bitten by the spider multiple times.

[spoiler=dc10 heal or knowledge (nature)]They are on zero hit points and have been poisoned by the spider down to zero strength.

The mayor and priest have both asked you, more than once, to destroy any demon's bile you find. All you have to do is gently run the morningstar across each square.

Harada manages a small smile, his normally enthusiastic demeanor finally beginning to wear thin from all the grimness.

Harada say "I got this." and begins to work on cleaning out the room with the morningstar.

Harada reveals a workbench/desk with three arrowheads lined up (one steel, one stone, one obsidian) and a gap where the cold-iron arrowhead once stood. Beside them, a scribbled note reads, “Adverse reaction to cold iron. What about magic? Fire? Cold? Further trials are required.”

An assortment of alchemists gear is strewn across the desk: alembics, beakers, measuring spoons, scales...

At the end of the desk sits a small chest.

Carson decides that the old couple needs more help than they can provide. He rushes outside and waves to the mayor for help.

"We have found his parents but they are in bad shape. Can you send someone to the temple to bring a healer."

Carson finds a guard at each end of the street, left by the mayor.
Do you want to try commanding a guard, or fetching the mayor, or heading to the temple yourself? Or something else?

Carson finds a guard, "The kids parents have been poisoned by a giant spider demon. We killed the creature but we need help from the temple to heal the old folks. Please run and get help and then inform the mayor what has happened as ask her to meet us here."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

Grel checks around the room for signs of the spiders origin. Backtracking its movement to outside the house if need be.

perc: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

The guard's eyes go wide, "Demon! In Saringallow!"

He runs off toward the temple.

A few passers-by stop and stare at the running guard, "Did he say 'demon'?"

Grel finds spider eggs in the fading remains of the demon's bile. He is reminded that demon's bile attracts, corrupts and enlarges vermin. Sweet checks!

Grel looks for any bile trails that may lead us to the source.

Harada wastes no time in smashing the spider eggs.

Also he asks whichever alliy is closest... "Weren't we supposed to avoid panic?"

"Avoid panic? what is the fun in that, panic is my middle name. No not really." as he says with a weird but soft voice.

Remember that you guys are still inside the house and I am down the street talking to the guard.

Carson looks at the passer-bys and remembers that he is not supposed to cause any panic in town, "Not demon, Damon. I sent him to find Damon at the temple."

Bluff: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 14

The man looks at Carson, raises an eyebrow and whispers something to his friend before hustling away.

Verathis goes over to the workbench and looks over all that is there. When he opens the chest and reads the labels he whistles and asks the group" You guys see any more notes around. I'd like to know how far the research got before all hell broke loose. Or the Abyss in this case." He closes the chest and looks at and around the desk for anything else of value.

perception: 1d20 ⇒ 4

Verathis finds older notes, often documenting laborious repetition of simple alchemical tasks. Pricknettle is, it seems, an exacting tutor.
These notes are much neater and better organised.
Verathis finds nothing else pertaining to the Demon's Bile.

After the group has carefully freed the couple from the webs, Ildris arrives, trailed by a fuming Mayor Trinelli, "What is wrong with you people? I told you not to cause a panic, now you've probably got a few hours left before this whole place goes mad with paranoia!"

She enters the bedroom, still trailing the priest, "Honestly, sometimes I-" Sandra is caught short, then a low moan escapes from her lips, [smaller]"Oh, no: Beldonna, Altius... oh, sweet Bel..."

Ildris frowns over the two for only a second before quickly making abeisance to Erastil.
channel energy: 3d6 ⇒ (1, 2, 4) = 7
A warm glow suffuses the area, healing everyone inside, including our heroes.
He then leans over the two and makes more careful quiet prayers which bring them groggily out of their unconcsious state.

Beldonna, Altius, are you ok?

Grel pushes over a pillow or whatever is handy.

Harada looks to his companions "See, I told you we weren't supposed to cause a panic."

Altius stares at Grel, eyes bulging, clearly in shock, while Beldonna manages to speak for them both, "Gellion had been very quiet, withdrawn, you know, boys... then Altius saw him heading to Marcuccio's warehouse - he's a friend, let's Gellion use it for his experiments on his long trips out of town - and Gellion was helping the boy from the bar, his friend, you know, the big one, and the big lad, he seemed drunk, Gellion was keeping him on his feet. Boys will be boys, you know how it is... an' then, an' then, Gellion didn't come home that night. Now, in the early morning, before first light, right in the deep darkness of the night, there was a commotion in his room. We thought he'd stayed out real late an' snuck back in; we were ready to read the riot act, you know, you can't love them an' let them run wild... but the windows were shut tight, pitch black it was. An' this little beastie with a knife comes charging out. Now we stepped in Gellion's room an' shut the door quick-sharp between us an' the creature. It was dark mind, so dark, and I didn't know the spider was there until its fangs..." she shudders at the memory.
"Our boy, Gellion, is he alright? Have you seen Him? Sandra?" she peers past you at the mayor.

Sandra Trenelli's eyes narrow, "Marcuccio's warehouse? Marcuccio Bravoni?"

Bel nods feebly.

The mayor turns to you, flicking a finger at the watchman who fetched Ildris, "Aldrick here can take you to Bravoni's. I'll set up a perimeter with the watch, so nobody gets hurt, but I fear a mob could be close at your heels. Go quickly!"

Before you can leave, Bel looks deeply into Grel's eyes, "You've kind eyes, you understand; he's a good boy. Bring him back to his momma." She waves at his desk, "Any of his little tricks might help you? You take them. Gell won't mind. He don't take offense none."

Talking seems a strain, tears well up in her eyes, a thin line running down her pale cheek, "He's a good boy, bright - raising him's the best thing we ever did - where is he? What's happened to my boy? My sweet, sweet boy?"

Ildris strokes her hair and leans over the gaunt woman, "Hush, hush... don't you worry. Everything will be alright... alright... you rest now. You'll need your strength for when he comes home." He smiles at her, keen to lift her spirits, "Or you won't be able to tear a strip out of him for worrying you both sick."

Bel gives Ildris a pained little smile and sinks into exhausted sleep.

Verathis takes the chest off the desk. He then walks over to Ildris and softly says "We found the same corruption in the orchard and the grave yard. Given how big this infection is it would not surprise me if we missed some demon bile. You may want to send some of your ilk to give them another look while we go to this warehouse and we what we find. We'd do it ourselves but it might take a while and this kind of thing is best gotten rid of as quickly as possible."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23