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Scenario #1: Silent Tide (Subtier 1-2)
When strange reports of misty undead spread through Absalom, you and your fellow Pathfinders are dispatched to the half-drowned district of Puddles. Notoriously rough, the drooling addicts, flesh panderers, and quick-handed knifers of Puddles are the least of your worries. The night's tide brings with it an ancient armada of some long-forgotten war and you are the only thing between their mist-shrouded ghost fleet and Absalom's utter oblivion.
Written by Michael Kortes
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This is a closed campaign.
Instructions: Once you have been accepted into the party by the GM, please "ninja-dot" here in order to enter this scenario into the list of your campaign threads.
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An overly tall, pale man with long hair strides confidently into the main bar at the Grand Lodge. A wicked serrated greatsword across his back immediately catches the eyes of some of the patrons as he takes a seat at the bar, his confidence evident as he orders a drink. "Whiskey, neat. And an ale for my friend here." He adds, for no one in particular it seems.
He leans back a bit on the bar stool as he looks around the room, reaching his hand into a bowl of peanuts for a handful of the salty snack. "Seen anyone else askin' about this 'Silent Tide' work? My uncle said to meet here. He ain't great with filling in all the details, never has been."
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Your boots squash with fetid water as you plod through the Puddles. A thick fog hangs in the air, seeming almost to caress the flesh with an unnatural chill. As you stand outside the Soggy Piper in a foot and a half of brackish brine, you try to recall what was so damned important to demand your presence in the half-flooded slum during Absalom’s rainy season.
You remember your meeting at the Lodge just a few hours earlier with your Venture-Captain, Adril Hestram. A bear of a man with only a few teeth remaining in his head, he motioned you into the meeting hall with a casual wave of his grizzled hand. The human captain outweighs most of Absalom’s half-orcs, and though a layer of beefy blubber coats his frame, those of you who have tangled with him in the Lodge sparring ring know that beneath this thin veneer of fat lies nothing but solid, steely sinew. Adril’s wild beard wags to the ponderous shake of his massive head as he examines a scrap of ancient parchment on the table before raising his eyes to greet your gaze and speaking:
"Come in then, friends, and thank you for answering my summons so swiftly. The society is in need. An old and quite penniless historian, a bespectacled wag-beard by the name of Yargos Gill has recently made a discovery in an old archive that we have a great interest in obtaining: an ancient codebook, left behind in the wake of one of Taldor’s many failed attempts at invasion. This several-hundred-year-old text would prove an excellent addition to our collection, and must be preserved."
The venture-captain stabs a meaty forefinger at a point on the map atop his cluttered desktop. "Yargos makes his home in ‘The Puddles,’ Absalom’s poorest district, suffering from a well-known reputation as a haven for lowlifes. Following an earthquake ten years ago, parts of the Puddles now rest below sea level, resulting in frequent and untimely flooding. Those who can afford not to live there—don’t."
Adril Hestram scowls, "The district is the stomping ground of pimps, harlots, addicts, knifers, and hoards of unseemly derelicts. It’s never been a kind place, but recent reports reveal some new nameless terror on her waterlogged streets. Several persons claim to have seen cloaked, skeletal-like figures marching through an unnatural fog. Ill tidings indeed. Tracking down Yargos is now a priority—lest some yellow-toothed thug cut him down, or one of these strange wraiths carry him beyond the pale."
He leans forward, towering over his desk, "Find him, fellow Pathfinders, and find the codebook. Your exploits will be recorded in the Chronicles if you succeed."
The memory fades as a fresh deluge of cold seawater rounds a bend in the lane and assaults your knees. After searching for Yargos at his favorite eatery, the Soggy Piper, you learned you just missed him.
A haggard serving wench named Flo informs you, "A gang of dangerous young tattooed toughs arrived ahead of you. They grabbed Yargos and several of his friends from their dinner table and dragged them to a nearby cliff at the edge of the Puddle District. The watch was called, but they will arrive too late, as they often do in the Puddles, when they bother to venture there at all."
It is early evening, the first Wealday of the month of Desnus, an old man is about to face some awful fate at the sea cliff known as Torsen’s Maw, and you are no closer to finding the
codebook Adril sent you for.
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Damien sits at the table, filling his face with a monstrous, double-decker ham and cheese sandwich, a line of orange secret sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. "I don't like it at all, Ruby," he looks down at his lupine companion, who raises her head promptly at the call of her name. Setting down his sandwich, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and places his hands on the table. "We gotta find this guy, 'n quick. Someone musta had sum reason for takin' him and his friends so suddenly. Maybe they're lookin' for the codebook too! Whattya think, guys?" He looks around the table at the other Pathfinders for agreement. "Oh, I'm Damien, by the way," the halfling smiles.
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Foremother never mentioned places like this. Is this the price of urban life?
Dawn didn't like the Puddles at all. Not because of the people living there, but the lack of care and maintenance. This was supposed to be the height of "civilization".
Also no one knows how to make a mushroom & cashew platter around here. Dawn stuffs another mouthful of peanuts in her mouth. She continues to wonder how the halfling was able to wolf all that food down.
"Dawn. Dawn Verda."
She smiles at Flo.
"Thanks for the information. It sounds like we're the right people in the right place at the right time."
She stands up.
"We gotta get to that cliff, and fast!"
Dawn dusts herself off, checks her falchion and runs up to the door.
"C'mon, hurry up!"
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Mort sits next to Damien, towering over the halfling in height. He too eats a super sized ham and cheese sandwich, heavy on the pickles. "We've gotta move and I've gotta eat. Better get on with it." He grabs up his sandwich to eat on the way, his greatsword banging against the chair as he leaves in a hurry.
"Can't say I know much about what gangs run the Puddles. I'm sure there's many." He says as they slog through the water towards the cliffs. "Name's Mort, and this here is my Mindy." He says, pointing to the wicked looking serrated greatsword across his back.
"This Yargos guy... sounds like someone I met once back at the Wounded Wisp. Maybe I'm mixing him up with some other bearded book worm though." He says with a laugh. "Any of you good with sweet talkin? Or should I just give 'em all a piece of my mind straight off... not many guards around here to be called. Sometimes yellin' at someone is the best course." Ya ya Mindy, yelling or cutting their head off, I know, I know.
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kari only eats a smattering of her sandwich, a ham- and- brie with apple. If there's one thing that could be improved about this whole Society, the food could be much better, she thinks to herself. The rain's not the problem- it's the lack of beautiful, specialty- ordered food.
As Flo describes the ruffians, Kari quickly gets to her feet. I was anxious to be off anyways. "We must depart quickly, fellow travelers. Let us make haste."
She turns to Flo. "Can you tell us the fastest way to get to this cliff?" Her voice has an even- keeled edge to it, radiating authority that she doesn't have.
As they move forwards, Kari will introduce herself. "I am named Kari Blackvine. It is a pleasure to meet you all."
"Though I would prefer not to have to cut any heads off, at least immediately," she adds quickly.
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Mort Gloomhollow is pretty sure he's never heard much about the gangs active in the Puddles, but he does remember the scholar Yargos Gill from one of his earlier Pathfinder missions. Mort had met the old man at the Wounded Wisp.
Flo gives Kari Blackvine directions to the cliffs, then the magus shows her colleagues how a kensai makes haste.
Following the lead provided by Flo at the Soggy Piper, you race to the edge of Torsen’s Maw, a short stubby sea cliff.
Six brash young toughs covered with tattoos of vicious, snarling dogs are prodding four terrified older men off the edge of a cliff into the sea. The prisoners are shackled together in a line with heavy chains, which shall surely drag them to the sea floor in short order should they tumble from the cliff’s edge into the churning waters below.
As you screech to a halt on the graveled path, you overhear one of the toughs threatening the old men. "Ya shouldn't crossed the War Hounders, old man. Nessian said 'Grab Yargos and everyone he’s been talkin' to and dump 'em into the sea to drown.' And that's what we're gonna do."
Yargos Gill pleads, "These men were just having dinner with me, that's all. Tashen's a dishwasher at the Soggy Piper. Ilmn's a soap maker, and Samchar's retired watchman. Please, let them go."
The gangstas are wearing leather armor and are armed with a 'dog claws' , saps, and they have light crossbows slung over their backs.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Sejanus sat miserably in the Soggy Piper. Having quickly given up on the cheap, gritty bread, ze picks over the other ingredients of zir now open sandwich as ze focuses on what Flo has to say.
Feeling the squelch of zir soggy boots as ze stood, the young armiger shuddered and grabbed zir guisarme from where it had stood, propped against the wall.
”Let’s go.”
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As the group approaches Torsen’s Maw and the tattooed thugs come into view, Sejanus’ sorrowful expression turns to one of distain.
Stepping forward, ze wastes no time in showing the men ze means business, grabbing their attention with the hook of zir guisarme.
“Stand down, all of you!” Sejanus speaks with authority beyond zir station.
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The magus Dawn Verda vanishes.
As Mort issues a stern warning to the thugs, Sejanus Ici advances on the purple-nosed gangsta and trips him.
The green War Hounder kicks the lead prisoner off the ledge. Since the captives are all chained together, everyone else is dragged over the cliff as well. The last prisoner, Samchar, manages to grab the ledge. The weight of the bodies plus the dangling chain is far beyond the aged warrior’s strength, and who knows how long Samchar can only hold onto the ledge...
The pink-eyed gangsta wants nothing to do with the guisarme-wielding warrior, and he moves to a supporting position with one of his buddies.
The shocked thug on the ground, gets defensive and tries to rise. Sejanus cuts him down, and the man remains on the ground, his life blood seeping into the rocky soil.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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"The War Hounders? Sounds like sum lame, cheap knockoff, wannabe gang," Damien taunts. Ruby growls menacingly, sensing the danger. "Yeah, I git it, girl. These guys are gunna pay. Hey, I've taken down a minotaur before, what makes ya think yer gonna leave here still breathin'?!"
Clicking his tiny boots against her sides, Ruby pounces forward, and Damien holds his lance out as she does as if he were jousting.
Whether he misses or not, Damien continues to move past the thug, stopping and turning about.
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Mort shrugs his shoulders as the thugs ignore his warning "Suit yourself, let's get to work Mindy." Mort quickly steps forward, drawing Mindy with a ring and what sounds like a woman's laughter.
He hacks down from right to left, doing his best to cut the orange thug's head and arm off in one swing. As his blade cuts into the man the woman's laughter turns to song. "Hold on Gramps, we'll be there in just a shake."
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The terror-stricken thug just barely manages to slip past the charging Damien's lance.
Mort's heavy blade cleaves the orange-haired gangsta's body in two, the neat but bloody halves sliding against one another with a sickening sucking sound as they fall to the ground.
The yellow-bellied thug and his red-eyed comrade flank the slayer, using teamwork to take him down.
Those who've closed with their foes are surprised to see that the tattoos the thugs bear are animated, depicting war dogs savaging their human prey in battle. The exotic body art plays out a repeating short horrific scene, but the image otherwise has no sound, smell, texture or temperature.
The still invisible Dawn Verda realizes that the old man can't possibly hold on to the sharp outcropping on much longer, not while bearing the combined weight of the other three men and the heavy chain all by himself.
You hear the faint cries for help from the men dangling above the churning waves and the deadly rocks below.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari notices that neither Green nor purple have been engaged yet, and if
Dawn, who has suddenly appeared in front of the men, has any chance of succeeding, they'll need to be distracted. So she rushes forward, sets up a defensive stance, and attacks Green Bandit.
She steps in front of the two. "Should have left when you could," she tells them ominously as she swings and misses.
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Kari Blackvine advances on the green-eyed thug, issuing a challenge to him and his pink-eyed companion.
The two gangsta's snicker and curl their fingers in a cocky 'come hither' gesture. "You don't look so tough, girly-girl!"
The old man, Samchar, is startled when a voice out of thin air offers encouragement and hope. Dawn Verda peers over the edge at the four desperate men. The heavy chain sways in the wind, twisting and creaking, bumping them against the cliff face.
"Please, help me. My fingers are slipping." Samchar glances down. "And Yargos has put on a few pounds in recent years."
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
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Sejanus delivers a slashing blow to the red-eyed thug's neck, and the fountain of blood drenches Mort.
Pinky and Green-Eyes step up to Kari and throw quick simultaneous jabs at the magus, but their hurried punches fail to connect.
calls out Samchar.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
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Mort doesn't flinch as the spray of blood hits his face Woah Mindy! One more then we help the old men! Mort wipes the blood from his eyes and takes a moment to watch the yellow haired thug. His eyes, his stance, how his weight is balanced. "Ah. Now is the time." He bellows and raises Mindy to remove the man's head. Unfortunately that blood spray is slippery and he nearly loses his grip on Mindy.
Study Target (Move Action)
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The little halfling with the small hands and biceps tries, but fails, to haul up the four old men and save them from being crushed on the rocks or drowning in the sea.
The big, burly slayer applies his substantial strength of arms to one of the party's remaining foes. His mighty swing misses the dodging thug, and the follow-through spins him around in a full circle.
The jaundiced gangsta steps away from the two warriors and toward the roughrider. He throws a punch at his mount.
pants Samchar, tobacco-stained fingernails torn and old, arthritic fingers slipping.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
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Kari provides a distraction for some of the gang members.
At the cliff's edge, Samchar's hands finally give way, and he screams,
Dawn and Damien peer down in horror. The four old men barely miss the rocks 35 feet below, as they crash into the roiling waves. They call up, "Save us, please! Don't let us drown!"
They flounder for a few moments, gulping air and seawater, before the heavy iron chain starts to drag them beneath the surface of the water.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
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Sejanus had just been about to drop zir weapon and rush to the cliff side to help the others.
I can't help them now, if I jump in I'll sink like a stone.
Turning zir attention to the remaining thugs, Sejanus curses, "Moloch will make ladders of your spines, picking apples in the forests of Hell!"
Stepping forward with fire in zir eyes, the young squire attacks the jaundiced man flanked by Damien.
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Dawn finally tries to reach out... only to realize she's too late.
"Time for plan B."
Dawn hopes Sejanus can defeat the thug with the yellow tattoos.
Whether or not it happens, Dawn casts a spell (risking an AoO from Yellow) and dives right into the water.
Dawn dunks right into the waves.
She takes non lethal damage as she plops 15 feet below the surface.
"Hold onto me, I'm pretty buoyant." Dawn calls out to the men.
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Sejanus Ici, Hell's Johnny Appleseed, takes down the sallow-faced War Hounder adding a biting insult to his fatal wound.
Once the Chelaxian fighter fells the vitamin D-deficient thug, Dawn Verda casts monkey fish and dives to the rescue. Slamming into the water more like a rock than a swan, she's a little banged up.
The old men are sinking, the weight of the rusty iron chain pulling them to the bottom. Dawn's momentum carries her to the first, Samchar. She realizes that the prisoners’ shackles are of poor quality, and a prisoner could be freed by opening their locks or using brute strength check to break the chains.
Kari's paired foes each throw throw a punch at her. She manages to bob away from the green-eyed gangster, but the pink-cheeked War Hounder lands a blow to her face, opening a ragged gash in her cheek.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
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Mort looks down at the yellow thug, bleeding, then back to Sejanus "Well alright. Finish these f&$#s off, I'm going for a swim." He drops Mindy to the ground and takes a running jump off the cliff, doing his best to get some distance to clear the rocks and the old men.
As he leaps he hollers back to the others "Don't let anything happen to Minnnnndddddyyyy...." He fades off into the surf with a splash.
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Damien watches his companions dive off the cliff. "Well, s~~+. Be careful down there, guys, I'ma help this lady finish off these puny thugs." He pulls on Ruby's scruff to get her to turn around. "With me, girl, git 'em!"
The white wolf barks angrily as Ruby bounds ahead, Damien holding his lance out to catch the green thug in the neck.
Damien misses, and Ruby is too distracted by the situation below to attempt an attack.
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Mort snaps the chains with his bare hands, freeing the old veteran Samchar to float to the surface where spits out a spray of seawater and gulps a lungful of air. Mort grips the chain in one hand, still connected to the other three men and heading for the sea bed.
Samchar reaches for Dawn, grateful to be alive and worried about his friends.
Damien dances with wolves, trying to lance a gangsta and remain in the saddle.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
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As Kari spins about, dodging and parrying blows, she sees that her teammates have dealt with the threat on the left and now come to aid her. Her eyes alight.
"Good," she smiles, wiping the blood from where one of the men slashed her. "Now it's my turn."
She steps in and attacks Pinky, guided by arcane might.
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In a momentary lapse in concentration, Kari's attempted spell fizzles. The magus vents that frustration with a well-aimed strike at Pink Cheeks.
Dawn leaves Samchar clinging to a wet rock and dives down to the chained prisoners, now settled on silt seabed and looking desperate, breath held and eyes bulging. She tugs on the rusted links, but they hold fast.
Sejanus eyes the flank of Green Jeans and tickles it with zir guisarme. The thug's knees buckle, and he crumples to the dirt.
Pink Cheeks, realizing he's the last War Hounder standing, beats feat. "The War Hounders will have their revenge!"
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx & Ruby
Mort
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine
Mort grunts as he finds these chains much more difficult to break!
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Hand over hand and holding his breath, Mort follows the chain to old Ilmn the Soap-maker. He gives the chain a tug, but the links hold.
Back atop the cliff, the hobbit-on-the-half-shell slips from his mount and takes a leap of faith. Damien bellyflops into the water, his breastplate emitting a resounding gong from the impact.
Dawn Verda
Sejanus Ici
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Pink Thug
Purple Thug
Green Thug
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Damien Marx
Ruby
Mort[/b]
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Red Thug
Orange Thug
Yellow Thug
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Kari Blackvine