GM Iron-Dice RoTL AE Campaign

Game Master Iron-Dice


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All knowing teller of tales
Savarend Whiteroot wrote:
. . . crypt, reaches out with his longhammer, and taps gently on the crypt.

Aside from the gentle shifting of a few loose crumbles, resulting from the barbaric forceful opening of this once dignified resting place, nothing of note happens when it is tapped on.

From your new vantage point, it is clear that the skeletal remains of the former father Tobin have been removed.


Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

Alaren follows Savarend and looks at the crypt that use to hold remains.

Why would they take Fater Tobin's remains and not any of the others. Was this what they actually came for and the rest was just a way to not be detected. she directs her questions to the Sheriff, but is also thinking out loud. why this one crypt and not the others in here?


Male Halfling Swashbuckler 8/Magus8(Kensai,)/Investigator8(Questioner)

"I've never been one to let fear hold me back before, not gonna start now" With that the brave little halfling cautiously moves forward into the crypt, rapier held ready.

[ooc]1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24


The sheriff looks a Alaran and thinks about her questions.
I was a pallbearer on that day. A great honor, honoring a great man. I have not looked inside since the good Father was laid to rest.
His face turns red with anger and disgust. These turd slurp bunt cakes are messing with the wrong town. He growls low in his throat.
I’m a man of military discipline. I keep the peace. Hells, most of my time is spent locking up drunks and kicking travelers to the curb when they disturb my peace.
But this, Riddles within riddles. Humanoid and dongle drainer footprint together. Stolen remains. He shakes his head. I welcome any assistance you lot can offer.
I was going to turn over the slick stain in holding to ol’ Hosk ta string em up by his ears. Ha! He pauses as that pleasing image crosses his minds eye. Perhaps I could turn ya loose on ‘em for a few questions before hand, if ya think it’ll help.

As Dairkal look around for details and clues, about the only thing disturbed is the coffin lid, roughly broken and discarded by crude force, then the remains taken, but with more care. Nothing else seem to have been disturbed.


Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

Some o' th' evil lil's shit's will disturb graves just to scatter bones and dececrate graves just t' piss us off. Or Dread Gobbies,who are tall pallid gobs wit' blank eyes,skull-faces,and a habit o' diggin' up graves t' eat corpses an' undead wit' an' aversion t' fresh flowers.

Running her nails through her flared Mohawk,the she-dwarf draped the black cloak with the skull patches over her arm.Don' worry,we'll get some useful tidbits outta th' lil' turd kicker. If not we'll do it Hosk's way.


Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

Alaren looks back at the rest of the cemetery while the Sheriff answers her questions.

She nods when the Sheriff says they could question the Gob in the Holding cell.

E-Terah wrote:
Don' worry,we'll get some useful tidbits outta th' lil' turd kicker. If not we'll do it Hosk's way.

I suggest we go back there and start question the Gob now and then see where that leads up.


"I think E-terah and I should do the questioning. At least at first. Dwarves and goblins have a certain... understanding... when it comes it these sorts of issues." Savarend cracks his knuckles and sniffs. "That, and Torag is rather lenient when it comes to being less-than-pleasant with evil little cusses."


Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

E-Terah turned away and started to make her way back into the town proper,cracking her neck as she went. She stuffed the black cloak into her pack to be laundered for her to wear later. Shame to just throw it out.

Let's borrow a dog.


The journey back the the stone fortified garrison follows the same path as the initial trip. People are busy going about their daily routine yet take time to smile and wave to the new heroes. Seeing sheriff Hemlock accompanying the brave adventures seem to have a positive and pride-full effect on the community. Scars of the raid still can be seen, both physical and mental, but are lessoned as your small procession passes by.

The main floor of the garrison is all business. Spit and polished. Function over form. Order and discipline rule here. Just as the no-nonsense sheriff demands it.

The basement level however is an uncomfortable place. Dark, dank and sparse. Although clean, it totally void of any accommodations. Each cell has a flat hard bed, no linens, pillows or chairs. A privy bucket bolted to the corner is all the luxury provided. And event that prisoners have to clean themselves. Hemlocks philosophy is that townies should not want to spent time here, detouring them from casual crimes that will land an overnight stay.

Despite that, a local drunk is sobering up in a corner cell. Sipping on his morning ladle of water and chunk of two day old castoff bread.

The naked goblin occupies a center cell along the opposite wall. His clothing so filthy Hemlock ordered it burned (Not where the gob can see it. It may enjoy that.") Climbing the bars at the sound of entering footsteps, he sings in a raspy voice strained from yelling and screaming.

Goblin rule. Hu-man drool.
Lock us up, lock us down.
Be be goblins, burn th’ town.

Let’s me go, let’s me go.
I no kill you, let’s me go.


Then, as he's naked, he starts singing*

Whoop. Whoop. Whoop-Whoop.
Whoop 'em goblin style!

Ehhhhhhhhhh. Sexy goblin!
Whoop. Whoop. Whoop-whoop.

*Translated from goblin. Of course.


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Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8Knowledge (ReligioAs she descended the steps to where the goblin prisoner was being held,she tried to think of any valid reason as to why the bones of a goodly priest would be taken and for what purpose. She frowned as she couldn't recall anything noteworthy.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24Intimidating

She approached the cell as the goblin rattled the bars and barked off a defiant song. She gave it a hard long stare before baring her straight white teeth in a vicious smile full of threat. A dog's menacing growl rumbled in the back of her throat.

You tell what youse doings in man-town. Who sends youse? What tribes? Who chief? Or I feed little bawbles to dog and let horse bite off ears and squish youse with hooves. Trap your soul in dog teeth and horse feet with all other gobbies until no more room left inside.* Translated from Goblin


The naked goblin stands with it's feet on cross bars five foot above the floor. scowling and pumping its arms resembling a primate on exhibition.

At E'terah's threat, his face goes pale and fear washes over it. A vile fetid stream of yellow odorous urine arcs from its wrinkled winkie.

DC 10 reflex save for E'terah to avoid the stream. Same for any small folk within 10 feet. DC 8 for and medium persons who may be within 10 feet.

Total oblivious to its bladder control, the goblin cries out. Short long shanks no make bad medicine on blarg! No teef trap'n by ugly man thing.

It climbs down off the bars and cowers visibley shaking in the cells corner.

Wesa all be snetz by weird head long shankz. It no deformed lika'ez youz referring to E'Terah. It be weird head lik'a dat onez it points a dirty wart infested finger at Alaran. only da longshankz not'a be milker but'a banger.


Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

Alaren listens as E-Terah questions the Goblin, she is standing in back of the group letting the dwarfs take the lead on the questioning.

She watches with disgust as the goblin pees on itself. Listening to the goblin chater she catches first it's name. Blarg. He is definitely threatened by E-Terah's vision of goblin hell. She wrinkles her nose in disgust as he points it's finger at her.

They were sent by an elf? That does not make sense.

What is Longshankz name? Why did he send you? she yells at the Goblin. She is frustrated and blurs it out.
tell us or we will write on you and send you back to your tribe. Tell me, what do they do to Blarg if you know words?

Intimadte 1d20 ⇒ 13


Savarend reaches out with one mailed hand slowly, wraps his fingers around the goblin's small neck, and squeezes just enough for the spikes of his gauntlet to prick it's green skin. He whispers harshly. "Speak."


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Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20Reflex

Coolly,E-Terah simply cracked her neck with a loud popping noise and tilted her head slightly to avoid the stream of urine from the goblin whom she had literally just scared the piss out of. The stink of urine stung her eyes with the harsh taint of ammonia made her squint menacingly,lenses of her spectacles flashing eerily as the utter disgust the goblin she felt was written upon her face as her nostrils flared and veins stood out starkly upon her brow.

Watch way you talks to mesa. Me worst nightmare while still awakes. Puts youse in here,stick with dog teeth like nails,you hurt forevers,never stops---Me knows name,me write name,steal words out of head so Gnarls head deflate,brains leak outs ears!* translated from Goblin

She held up the grinning goblin beanbag doll with its green skin and red eyes it looked similar enough to pass for the naked,warty goblin.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
INTIMIDATING >:|


Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

Alaren cringes as she watches Savarend wrap is fingers around the Goblin. But relaxes a bit as E-Terah continues her intimidation.

An Elf using Goblins, what more can they learn from Blarg.


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Going to run three timelines for the moment. Jump in to as many or few as you feel are appropriate for your PC and/or fun for you.

  • “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:

    A moment after Savarend grabbed the goblin, a strong odor of pickles and cabbage whiffs up in light tentacles of steam from the cold stone floor. Apparently it’s bladder is not all that it has lost control of.

    Hearing Saverend whisper “speak” it immediately begins squeaking out La Laaaa Laaa Speak’ez speakie speakez. Pickles. Meat’ie pies. Uh, rat chewies. La Laaaa

    Looking at E’Terah No steal Blargz namez! No hurtz I! No hurtz I!

    Pleading to Alaran it yells out. Blarg no know name. Blarg know Blarg name. It’a Blarg.
    Ugly longshank banger with ears wan’a be lik’a gobbies only ugly smooth *gag* ukk. Ugly.
    Only chief talkie talk to ugly crack wiper, no Blarg. Blarg be from here. This be Balrg!

    The goblin is pointing to where his necklace would have been.

    DC 10 knowledge local or better to discern meaning.

  • “The Tip” Sundown. The Rusty Dragon Inn:

    Come evening you find yourselves having a lovely repast at the Rusty Dragon, thinking over the days questions and planing strategies. Ameiko and Bethana busily go about their work, happy for the business. Although the majority of the conversation still focuses on the raid the mood is greatly improved over the night before.

    As E’terah eats and drinks she sees one of the town guards enter the Inn. She recognizes him as one of the full timers on the sheriff’s roster. He looks about and heads directly to E’Terah, moving in such a way to insure his approach is unthreatening, but announced. Placing a hand lightly on her shoulder he knells down to speak in hushed tones.

    Mistress Deepheavy, I hoped to find you here. I have news. I have listened ta your tale of the carriage driver you told the sheriff. Just now, I was grabbing some grub at th’ Hagfish, before my shift ya see. Anyways, there’s this stranger boastin’ ‘bout killing gobbies an such. Wiry fellow in a coachmen’s coat. ‘en I starts hearing ‘em spinnin’ a yarn ‘bout defending an entire carriage o’ passengers an such, killing o’er a dozen before be’n overran ‘e says.
    He pushes his hand down harder on E’Terah’s shoulder upon feeling any movement to get up.
    How hear me good, friend. Th’ sheriff aint got no tolerance for any vigilantly stuff in ‘is town. I got’a go on duty in thirty minutes, ‘an when I’do, I got’a check on any disturbances in my assigned area. Now. Ya diddn’a hear any o’ this from me. Clear!

  • Evening at the Rusty Dragon. Meal time the following morning:

    Always a hearty meal and good company, the evening turns to entertainment. Drinking, music and stories that the Rusty Dragon is famous for. The place is packed tonight, including Aldern Foxglove ionce again looking his regal best, freshly washed and with a new tailored suit pressed as tight as his practiced smile.

    Somewhere between whisky shots and mandolin ballads, the taverns door slams open with a violent rattle and boom. A surly visitor enters shouting sharp-tongued commands a in a strange language. The other patrons of the bar, seeming to recognize him, grow very quiet and interested in their drinks.

    Anyone speak Minkaian?


  • Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:

    Alaren listens as Blarg whines when Savarend grabbed him and then rants on about not stealing name. When he answers her questions she quietly listens.

    Blarg wrote:

    Pleading to Alaran it yells out. Blarg no know name. Blarg know Blarg name. It’a Blarg.

    Ugly longshank banger with ears wan’a be lik’a gobbies only ugly smooth *gag* ukk. Ugly.
    Only chief talkie talk to ugly crack wiper, no Blarg. Blarg be from here. This be Balrg!

    The goblin is pointing to where his necklace would have been.

    Knowledge local 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12

    She looks at the goblin as it points to its neck.

    You did not answer the questions Blarg - What tribes? Who chief? She repeats E-Terah's questions calmly - less aggressive. Good elf, bad dwarves routine Why come here? What was the reason?

    “The Tip” Sundown. The Rusty Dragon Inn:
    Alaren quietly eats with the rest of the group, she is pushing around a fork of food around the plate in front of her, thinking about what they learned from the Goblin. Obsessed that an Elf, crack wiper as Blarg called him, is using Goblins for what purpose. She notices as a town guard appears at E-Terah's side. She looks at him and notices that the weight of his hand on E-Terah's shoulder seems to increase as he finishes what he has to say. Alaren simply awaits E-Terah's reaction to what she has been told to see if it is something relating to the attack by the Goblins or another matter.

    Evening at the Rusty Dragon.
    Alaren still feeling a bit sore from the encounter with the skeletons that morning, sits close to the fire pondering the day. She sips at a hot drink in a large mug and watches the Entertainment. Trying to blend in with the rest of the group, she fights the inclination to retire to the room and write in her journal about the days events. She notices as Aldren Foxglove enters but pays little attention to his actions, he is simply impressed by status and she dismisses him as a treat.

    Iron-Dice wrote:
    Somewhere between whisky shots and mandolin ballads, the taverns door slams open with a violent rattle and boom. A surly visitor enters shouting sharp-tongued commands a in a strange language. The other patrons of the bar, seeming to recognize him, grow very quiet and interested in their drinks.

    Alaren looks at the man who is yelling - trying to determine what he is yelling. She looks around at the regulars who now appear to be more interested in the bottom of their mugs than anything else.

    Perception check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13 She tries to determine what the general meaning of this gentleman's commands are and who he might be?


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    The Sandpoint Garrison

    1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8Know (Local]

    E-Terah allowed her fellow dwarf throttle the goblin throughout the bars,sneering at the little wretch's nonexistent grip on its bodily functions as Saverend shook the dung out of it.

    She squeezed the goblin beanbag thoughtfully as she considered the existing goblin tribes in the surrounding area that Blarg could hail from. She scowled to think of facing any more gobbies similar to this one without putting an axe to its beastly face.

    So a male elf or half-elf was the one behind the distracting goblin raid to steal a goodly priests bones. It made less sense than this entire interrogation! She spat on the floor to cleat her nose and mouth of the nasty taste the goblin's excretions caused.

    I'm done. It's just a grunt. It was jus' along fo' th' raid. Canoon fodder. We probably can only use it t' lead us t' th' tribe responsible an' go fr'm there. I'm gonna go bathe. Goblins,grave dust,and filth so early in th' morn make me grumpy.

    She turned and dissapeared up the steps leading back into the streets of Sandpoint.


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    “The Tip” Sundown. The Rusty Dragon Inn

    E-Terah was finishing up her three plates,stacking the dishes and cutlery neatly before her and wiping her face with a clean wet cloth. She checked her face with her small steel mirror before tucking it away.

    When the guardsman approached their table,she allowed him to kneel down and whisper in her ear. Her expression shifted from one of polite interest to one of almost vicious glee at what he divulged,earning her odd looks from her companions.

    He straightened but kept a retraining hand on her shoulder lest she jumped out of her seat and added quietly in a stern tone,How hear me good, friend. Th’ sheriff aint got no tolerance for any vigilantly stuff in ‘is town. I got’a go on duty in thirty minutes, ‘an when I’do, I got’a check on any disturbances in my assigned area. Now. Ya diddn’a hear any o’ this from me. Clear!

    As polished crystal,she replied huskily,giving him a hearty clap on his hip and a grateful grin.

    Chuckling almost sinisterly,the she-dwarf heaved herself out of her chair and waddled out of the door while pulling on her pack,her new black cloak,and peacebonded maulaxe. She almost bowled over a drunken couple clinging to one another in her haste to get out the door.

    Gotcha now,ya lil' coward!! Her fierce mutter was followed by a maniacal snigger as the Rusty Dragon's door slammed shut behind her.

    As soon as her boots hit the cobblestoned street,the she-dwarf barreled her way towards the Hagfish tavern with all the haste of an out of control cart rolling downhill.

    The joy of vengeance! Justice! Payback time be nearing! My lullaby tonight!A song started in her head in her excitement as she drew closer to her destination. The sunset made her eyes and hair glow fiercely in the sun's waning rays.


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    Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    Alaren watches E-Terah's reaction to what ever news the town guard brought. As E-Terah waddles out of the Rusty Dragon, Alaren puts her bow over her shoulder and follows E-Terah out the door. When she passes the town guard she smiles and asks Where?
    He replies, Hagfish

    She moves quickly following E-Terah.


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  • “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:

    Frustrated by the dim witted creature, and unable to do a proper "hands on" interrogation, due to the iron bars and steely eyes of the sheriff, E'therah stomps off to find fresh air and a bath.

    Alaran, more accustomed to observing and listening, remembers tales of how goblins, especially lower status ones, use symbols and objects to communicate instead of words. Perhaps it is attempting to answer the question after all.

  • “The Tip”. Sundown.

    The location of the Hagfish across from the garrison explains it's popularity with the town guards. Fortunately, or on occasion unfortunately, it can also mean a fast response whenever trouble happens.

    The exterior of this popular destination is clad in salvaged ship planks creating a noteworthy appearance in Sandpoint. A carved sign hangs at the entrance "Home of Norah the Hagfish. Drink if you dare."
    The evening is full on dark by the time E'Terah arrives. Despite her shorter gait the focused she-dwarf made good time arriving. A slight sea breeze blows in from the bay and on nights such as this the owner props the door open. Warm yellow light invitingly pours from the opening along with the sound of guffaws, stench of pipe weed and steaming seafood.

    Alaran eyesite takes in the entire scene from several paces behind the oracle. A moment later she watches as the she dwarf . . .

  • Evening at the Rusty Dragon.

    Alaran looks at the hot headed man, trying to perceive any detail that may explain his actions. He appears to be well dressed and of Tian decent is all she can make out.


  • Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13Know (Local)

    As the incensed she-dwarf approached the tavern called the Hagfish located a scant several strides across from Sandpoint's garrison,she furiously tried to think of anything relative she knew about the establishment before she entered.
    1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 Sense Motive

    As she entered,she scanned the faces within in the dimly lit room,spectacles glinting through the subdued candlelight and haze of pipeweed. She tried to sense whether or not any of the patrons within would impede her as she stalked through the crowd of seated and standing patrons.

    1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14Perception

    As she went,she sought out the familiar coachman's uniform and narrow,rodentlike face of the snivelling coward who had left her to die back on Lonely Coast road after she had fought off the first gang of goblins as the carriage burned around her. All she had seen after she shredded the first three goblins with stone shrapnel was him unhitching the only living horse,looking back at her with that terrified,sneering smirk,and him taking off on horseback.

    She started to stalk around the tavern,searching...


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    Grunting in disgust at the recalcitrant goblin and wiping his gauntlet on his pants, Savarend turns to leave as the party has apparently exhausted the tiny mind of the goblin. I wonder why the stout lass left in such a huff? Probably not something too pressing. She's a fiery one, that dwarf. He trundles his way out the door of the barracks, breathing in the fresh air of the square and getting a chance to look at Sandpoint without the chaos of battle ringing in the air. He stops a town guard strolling down the street. "Pardon me. Do you have a baker or pastry shop in town? I could go for a bearclaw right about now."


    Male Halfling Swashbuckler 8/Magus8(Kensai,)/Investigator8(Questioner)

    Evening at the Rusty Dragon.

    Dairkal, being the consummate professional, entertains some of the patrons, telling stories while juggling or performing simple sleight of hand.

    When the new comer enters, Dair pauses in the middle of his act.

    I notice I never listed languages. I get two bonus for Int and 1 more for 1 rank in Linguistics. Can I take Minkaian and say Ameiko has been teaching me, but I am not truly fluent?


    Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:

    Alaren watches as Blarg reaches for where is necklace would have been. She watches the Goblin a few moments more and then heads up the stairs after E-Terah.
    She looks back one more time before leaving the dungeon, just in case she missed something.

    Perception check 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12

    When she reaches the main floor she inquires as to where the thing are that the goblin had with it. She wants to see this necklace.

    Alaren watches as E-Terah heads out and smiles when she hears Savarend ask about a pastry shop for bear claws.


    Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    “The Tip”. Sundown.

    Alaren quickens her steps as the oracle enters the Hagfish. She takes a deep breath and loosens a dagger from its sheath on her belt and drops her hand to her side, bidding the blade but prepared in case a need arises.
    Alaren reaches the door of the Hagfish and steps just inside the door. Watching E-Terah she looks around to see whom the dwarf may be cooking for.

    Perception check 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13


    “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup::

    The guards explain that the goblins cloths and possessions were burned due to sanitary concerns. They do recall with disgust that his necklace contained several dead birds, all in different states of decay.

    Joining up with Savarend, you are directed back to SANDPOINT SAVORIES where a delighted Alma Avertin welcomes you inside and immediately serves up some of the freshest and finest bearclaw pastries imaginable. All the while doting on you both for your heroism in saving her (and everyone elses) businesses from burning at the hands of those foul creatures.

    “The Tip”. Sundown.:

  • Know (Local)
    The Hagfiush is one of Sandpoint’s most popular taverns, especially among fishermen and gamblers. Unlike the Rusty Dragon that caters to adventuring types, this sea side inn has a clientele of sea faring folk and ruffians. It’s owned by a gregarious one-legged man named Jargie Quinn, and the inn gets it’s name from the large glass aquarium that sits behind the bar, the home of a repellent Varisian hagfish that Jargie affectionately calls Norah. Hanging from a nail next to Norah’s tank is a leather pouch bulging with coins: prize money for anyone who can drink down a single tankard of “water” scooped from Norah’s tank. It costs a single silver coin to try.

  • Sense Motive

    Finding the carriage driver may not require much skill in judging people. A shrill and piercing voice carries through the room from a corner booth. There a thin, tall needle noised man wearing a familiar carriage coat hoist a tankard with a half dozen sailors hanging on his every word. . . .then I was in’a alley, an’a young girl was’a cornered ba’a brutish ugly piss soaked goblin as ya ever did saw. I struks a match on ma teeth, an lit up a plank o’ wood then went afta the gob yellin, "get outa here girl, i’ll save ya” . . .

    Alaran steps a few moments behind E’Terah.

  • Evening at the Rusty Dragon.:

    Dairkal, being able to speak Minkaian due to his time spent living at the Rusty Dragon chatting with Ameiko, knows the man’s words to be “Where the hell is my daughter?”


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7Sense Motive

    E-Terah watched the enraptured sailors soaking up the coward's story like a fish gulping water to breath in disgust. She approached indignantly and shoved her way past the circle of sailors to thrust out her chin and bosom,making her presence known.

    1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26Intimidating >: (

    Her baleful glare and the simmering aura of angry menace directed at the man in the coachman's livery made the far from sober sailors think twice before confronting her. One meekly took his tankard and slid out of her way.

    Eye glimmering behind her steel-rimmed spectacles,full lips pursed in an angry sneering pout that flashed a corner of teeth,the she-dwarf snarled at the coachman with an accusing finger,I find that funny since you left me t' die back on Lonely Coast road,you greasy little turd! You were hired to t' take me home from th' city o' Magnimar when those goblins attacked an' set th' damned carriage on fire. I broke out of the carriage amidst th' flames an' shredded three o' th' lil' blighters wit' me maulaxe--she gestured to the peacebonded maulaxe at her hip-- an' all I see you doin' was unhitching th' only survivin' horse and lookin' back at me afore takin' off an' leavin' me t' th' tender mercies o' th' little monsters! Whereas you robbed me of my pay when you abandoned me! An ' you have th' GALL t' tell tales of your ' heroism'?! How dare you!

    Scanning the sailors gathered with him,she gestured to herself and Alaren,Me an' this lass 'ere are th' ones who helped rout th' goblins raidin' Sandpoint an' stopped them fr'm burnin' down yer cathedral. All I want is for this lil' waste o' skin t' answer fo' his crimes against me! What do you have t' say fo' yo'self?!

    1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21Diplomatic to sailors


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    Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:

    Alaren follows Saverend into the Sanpoint Savories and gradiously accepts Alma's bearclaw pastries. She watches out the window as she nibbles at the treat. She glances at Savarend, This is good.
    She takes another bite while thinking about the Goblin in the cells under the Garrison. Normally she would write down all her observations about the creature and what it had said and done. She starts to pull out her journal but tilts her head as she watches the residents of Sandpoint through the window, and puts the journal back. [i] Later she thinks to herself.
    Savarend, have you seen any elves or half elves around Sandpoint since the incident, or even before? The Goblin has given us a description, although limited. The skeletons that attacked us this morning were created by magic, so from my limited point of view we are looking for a male elf wizard? Alaren ends her thoughts with more of a question than a statement. She feels frustrated by the lack of information she has at her fingertips. She is use to being able to find answers when confronting a problem. All the research she has done always ended in answers for her, now frustration seems to be her only answer.
    She looks back at the Paladen as he finishes his Bearclaw in hand. I would really have like to have seen the Goblin's necklace - sometimes goblins, especially lower status ones, use symbols and objects to communicate instead of words. Perhaps it was attempting to answer the question after all.

    “The Tip”. Sundown:
    Alaren carefully watches the crowd as E-Terah confronts the Coachman. She seems to have the Sailors Ears as she tells the tale of what truly happened on the Lonely Coast Road.
    Perception Check: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
    Alaren is watching for any sign of trouble as she makes her way towards E-Terah. She does remember to keep her back to the wall when at all possible. She does not want to get caught in the middle of a group if she can help it. And she wants to make sure E-Terah is not out to get herself into trouble. She thinks to herself, Why does it seem like I am following this Dwarf into trouble again.
    Sense Motive of the crowd 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

    Evening at the Rusty Dragon.:
    Alaren watches as Dairkal seems to pick up on what they Gentalman is saying. She looks around at the rest of the patrons, who all seem to be looking at the bottom of their mugs. What did he say? She whispers to Dairkal. She looks around again,
    perception check 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17


    Male Halfling Swashbuckler 8/Magus8(Kensai,)/Investigator8(Questioner)

    "He wants to know where his daughter is" The halfing answers quietly.

    The little man walks over to the stranger and says in Minkaian "Who is your daughter Sir?"


  • “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:

    There have been a few smatterings of elves throughout Sandpoint, no more or less that would be expected in this area of Varishia. The most prominent elf, and the only one you have had any real contact with, in Ameiko Kaijitsu, owner of the Rusty Dragon. There is also Lonjiku Kaijitsu, a local nobleman and father of Ameiko who was scheduled to speak at the opening ceremonies yesterday, but as announced, a sudden illness prevented him from attending the ceremony (this isn’t something that surprised the locals, given Lonjiku’s well-known dislike of frivolity and festivals).

  • “The Tip”. Sundown:

    1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26Intimidating >: (
    1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

    Seeing the serious nature of the she-dwarf and knowing when to step aside, three of the sailors take their drinks and step away from the table. The remaining three sit with bemused faces looking between the the carriage driver and the dwarf.

    Alaran senses the crowd is neutral yet fiesty. The murmur of wages being placed can be herd above the normal din of the room.

  • Evening at the Rusty Dragon.

    The tall regal elf looks down his noise at Dairkal. Speaking in common so everyone can understand his words Your ignorance is repugnant and inappropriate newcomer. Your use of “sir” was appropriate however. He waives a hand to dismiss you. Now go about whatever mundane business,you mundanes do.

    AMEIKO! Get out here at once!


  • Savarend shrugs, reaching for his third bearclaw. Several flecks of frosting hang stubbornly in his beard. "I'm not the best one to ask about elves. And when I say I'm not the best one to ask, I mean they all look the same to me. And when I say they all look the same, I mean they all look like women-folk. For several years during my childhood, I thought elves were pansexual, androgynous plant-creatures." He munches thoughtfully, staring out the window. "I'm still not totally convinced, actually." He finishes his third bearclaw, grabs a fourth, and follows Alaren out the door to the Rusty Dragon.

    Outside the Rusty Dragon that evening, he watches the tall elf yelling at Ameiko from street. He holds up his hands and tries to mollify the angry elf. "Easy, ma'am. Easy. Mind telling me why you are riling up citizens when we had a massacre so recently?"


  • Evening at the Rusty Dragon.

    Lonjiku is a middle-aged Tian man, although he looks much older than his age due to lack of sleep caused by recent events with the raid.

    He turns to Savarend when he enters and begins to brush him off as a drunk. So, my daughters cliental arrive already drunk. How fitting. he grumbles to himself. Then suddenly he pauses, taking a long deliberate look at the cleric then back to the halfling and his companions. The light of realization crosses his face.

    Here are the “heroes” who saved Sandpoint. Of course, where else would such flash-in-the-pans be welcome. Lonjiku approaches the group and starts accusing you of endangering the townsfolk with your ill-advised “antics” against the goblins, implying you should have left the defense of the town to the city guard and other “trained professionals.”


  • Male Halfling Swashbuckler 8/Magus8(Kensai,)/Investigator8(Questioner)

    "I have been staying here for the last few months, and Ameiko has been the soul of hospitality. About last night, I couldn't let my adopted home be attacked and not do anything." 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25 Diplomacy


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    E-Terah jabbed a rectangular glossy fingernail under his pinched,needle nose. She stared up into his bloodshot eyes,watching the beads of sweat slid down his sallow skin.

    Well,what d'ya hafta say fo' yourself,eh? Thought I was dead and gone,eh? How many others have you cheated an' abandoned,ya lil' coward? And where's my thirty gold--the pay for th' job you failed t' do? I'm taking you t' th' sheriff.she declared,hand on one shapely hip.


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    Evening at the Rusty Dragon.

    E-Terah squinted at the elderly Tian man with his cane misplaced up his backside as he looked down at all of them from his hawkish nose. One brow arched at his scolding.

    First of all,I am a professional at what I do---killing gobs. Second, I'm not your damned child so don' speak to me like I am. Third,you can bite my bountiful arse!

    1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13Str check

    She squeezed her clay tankard in one hand so hard it cracked and dark stout ale ran down her hand in riveluts.She glared at it accusingly as a pool started to form on the table.

    When danger arises an' threatens innocents in need,it's the obligation of those capable of dealing wit' that danger to put a stop to it. I did what any decent person would--not stand by twiddling my thumbs! Now,why don't you become a flash-in-the-pan an' dissapear? You're spoiling my ale.

    1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13Diplomatic dwarven style


    Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    “The Sandpoint Garrison”. Three hours after sunup:
    Alaren listens as Savarend explains how he sees Elves. She giggles as he reaches for his forth bear claw and they head back to the Rusty Dragon.

    “The Tip”. Sundown:
    Alaren watches as E-Terah puts her face within inches of the coachman's and requests her money back. She tenses when E-Terah says,

    E=Terah wrote:
    I'm taking you t' th' sheriff.

    Alaren watches the crowd, hoping for the best outcome of simply walking out of here and straight to the Garrison. Sense Motive 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

    She flips the dagger over in her hand, out of sight of the bar patrons, ready to throw it if necessary. She also shifts her weight onto one leg prepared to attack if anyone attacks them. ready action She looks back at E-Terah. Let's get this slime over to the Sheiff, before .... her voice trails off, she does not want to say anything out loud. She looks back at the other three still sitting at the table.

    Evening at the Rusty Dragon.
    She watches as Saverend calls the Elf ma'am and smiles, she quickly hides her smile behind her hand but does not look away. He kind of reminds her of someone back at school.

    As the Elf moves over to them she listens as he accuses them of endangering the townsfolk with your ill-advised “antics” against the goblins, implying you should have left the defense of the town to the city guard and other “trained professionals.” She drops her hand and straightens as Dairkal and E-Terah respond.
    Sir, There is more here than it appears. We simply helped the city's guards as they were not there to prevent the Temple from being set on fire. We did not wish to see damage and harm come to the Sandpoint and the new Temple. She keeps eye contact with the Elf. She looks for anything that may link him to yesterday's events. Also, she does not look away as he probably already considers her beneath him because of her heritage.
    Perception check 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20


    Savarend folds his arms. "Looks like you were just told, ma'am."


    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    Oi,get yo' arse up an' get steppin'!!


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20Grapple

    With her declaration,the she-dwarf grabbed the drunken coachman like she would a chicken with the intent of wringing its neck to eat it for supper. She seized him by his scrawny neck and more or less dragged him towards the door,giving him no choice but to crawl lest be let himself be dragged and slowly strangle. She felt his Adam's apple Bob against her fingers as he sputtered and gagged.

    C'mon!


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    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    Meanwhile,somewhere in the city of Magnimar~~

    An unusually tall figure clad in a hooded leather greatcoat with broad,arching shoulder and coiled purplish-red locks that dangled out of the concealing hood hunches over a corner table, alone. Yellow eyes shined like round lanterns from the confines of the Hood,staring fixedly upon what he was doing.

    Four empty pint tankards sit on the table and he is working on a fifth. Ignoring the rest of the patrons, he is carving into the tabletop with a large hand of smooth burgundy hued leathery flesh with dagger-length lacquered claw. He appears to be carving the picture into the grainy wood,blowing away the bits of sawdust that started to form into a pile.

    A wood carving of a female dwarf wearing spectacles and an angry scowl was revealed,hair flaring into a Mohawk. The heavily clawed hand stroked the carving almost lovingly before curling into a trembling fist,veins rising beneath the skin to stand out starkly.

    A frustrated hiss escaped the Hood,She-dwarf...


    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    BUMP


    Female Half Elf Ranger HP 8/12 - AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12

    Nudge


    Female Dwarf Oracle (Stone) Lvl 3 23/23 HP , AC 18 flatfoot 14/touch 11/ CMD 14/Cmb+3

    plz don't tell me this game is done for

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