GM Ragged's Keep on the Borderlands - B

Game Master waynemarkstubbs

The captain's map

The Killing Garden


1 to 50 of 511 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | next > last >>

Gameplay thread B


INACTIVE - GAME DIED

Checking... in.


Male Hobgoblin Grenadier 2 | AC 16 | HP 17/17 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 | CMB +2, CMD 15 | Init +5 | Perception +6

Reporting for duty. Thanks for the pick, boss!


INACTIVE - GAME DIED

... you're going to kill the party, aren't you.


Male Hobgoblin Grenadier 2 | AC 16 | HP 17/17 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 | CMB +2, CMD 15 | Init +5 | Perception +6

:)


Female Human (Shoanti)| HP 15/15 | Init+2; Per +9 | AC 18, T 12, FF 16 | F +3, R +2, W +7| Druid (Lion Shaman) 2

Happy to be here!


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

...I don't know about kill, but I think this is going to be the interesting group. From a mechanical standpoint, I'm glad I ended up with Margut - now I don't need to take Brew Potion :)


Human Monk (Master of Many Styles) 2/ Sacred Fist Warpriest 4 HP:10/10|AC:17|T:15|FF:12|CMB:+3|CMD:18|Fort:+3|Ref:+4|Will:+5|Init:+2|Perc :+7|Acro+6|

Hello all.. very ranged group... Houk here is a thrown weapons fighter. Should I change that to work better with what we need?


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

Maybe go switch hitter? You don't need to rebuild everything just for that.


INACTIVE - GAME DIED

I can do some melee as well, though my damage output isn't great. Armor Class is OKish for this level.


Female Human (Shoanti)| HP 15/15 | Init+2; Per +9 | AC 18, T 12, FF 16 | F +3, R +2, W +7| Druid (Lion Shaman) 2

I think we'll be ok between the 6 of us. I like both builds of Orono and Houk as they are.


Human Monk (Master of Many Styles) 2/ Sacred Fist Warpriest 4 HP:10/10|AC:17|T:15|FF:12|CMB:+3|CMD:18|Fort:+3|Ref:+4|Will:+5|Init:+2|Perc :+7|Acro+6|

I'll just take two weapon fighting and that'll make it true switch


HP: 13/17; AC: 16; Tch: 12; Flt: 14; Fort: +5; Refl: +4; Will: +4; CMD: 17|Skill Totals:
Prepared Spells:
0th: Detect Magic, Guidance, Light; 1st: Bless, Protection From Evil, Domain: Truestrike;

Dotting.
Blaughter is melee based. Granted, melee at reach, but still melee.


It has been three days since you left the last of the nameless farming hamlets in western Molthune and took the crumbling Old Dwarven Road up towards the mountains.

Legends in those hamlets tells of the construction of the road, hundreds of years ago, by indefatigable bands of gruff dwarven labourers, but even dwarven stonework cannot endure the harsh elements without maintenance, and in many places the Old Dwarven Road is little more than a cart track, a rough scar across the landscape littered with crooked stones and deep potholes filled with muddy water from the last of the melting snows.

On the third day you crest the ridge and catch your first glimpse of the Valley through the drizzle. Wide, shallow, and densely forested with hardy broadleaf trees, it stretches for several miles to the east before taking a northward turn and being lost to view. The small streams of the western watershed, swollen with snowmelt, have quickly formed into a fast-flowing river that cuts through the centre of the valley, forming a broad marshy area of low trees and thicket at its centre, before continuing on its way.

At the head of the Valley, on a small spur of rock, almost like a part of the mountain itself, stands the Keep. No flag flies from its tower, no banners hang from its walls. A small side spur of track leads from the main road to its gate, where a portcullis stands open, like a gaping mouth.

You have been travelling with this six wagon caravan for at least three days, so please introduce your character, what they look like, how they act, and what the others will have learned about them during the journey.


INACTIVE - GAME DIED

Moving alongside the caravan wagons is a slight woman, burdened with much gear, and leading a pack pony by the reins as she goes. It, too, has saddlebags laden with supplies - a prudent precaution in these wild lands, where outposts of civilization are scarce and far between. Her hair is jet black and coiffed up, and she wears an old metal breastplate stained with a similar black patina and scarred with small scratches. A targe is strapped to her left forearm, and she carries a longbow in that hand as well, with the pony's reins in her right; a quiver of arrows at her hip is always in easy reach should danger arise.

Her searching eyes seem to have either mirth or mystery in them, but they catch many of the details and features of the land. In the few days that have provided an opportunity to get to know her she has proven to be an able scout and familiar with the landscape, with the plants, animals, byways, and lay of the land. With a leather-wrapped hilted short sword at her side she is clearly no stranger to combat, but she does not seem to have many war stories to share. Indeed, while she is amiable if approached, she seems more inclined to watch the interactions of other caravan members from a distance. Not from arrogance, or haughtiness; rather, her stance betrays a curiosity, or perhaps a wicked wit that finds the ways that people pass tedious days of travel a source of perennial amusement. While one might expect her to be rude, or antisocial, on the occasions when someone chooses to speak to her she proves polite enough, if rather clipped in conversation.

Always she moves cautiously over the foliage and the streams of snowmelt, carefully watching for tracks and for opportunities to hunt for extra food or for clean water to improve the stocks of the caravan's supplies. In spite of her armor she moves with considerable stealth and grace, though it is clear that the sheer amount of supplies that she carries wears on her and she is quick to divest herself of her pack in the evenings.

Most notably - the literati would say "burying the lede" - while she scouts, on her pack rides a tremendous spider, about the size of a cat or a small dog. At a glance it looks like an odd affectation, until it moves and shows that it is, in fact, alive. Yet it never moves to strike her or anyone else - though she does warn other caravaneers not to trouble her "pet." Sometimes she sends it scuttling off through the woods to find its own supper of squirrels or groundhogs, but when she calls it always comes back to her, without fail. Clearly it is of the poisonous variety, and equally clearly this does not seem to trouble her overmuch - indeed, even when the spider playfully nips her as if it were some house-trained pet, she simply sucks on her finger momentarily and seems to suffer naught from the venom.

For those who make an effort to pierce the veil of her eccentricities, the young human woman introduces herself as Orono, colloquially called "the Black Widow," and she says that she is from a family of some means who owned a trading post many days' journey from here. As for why she chose to follow the Old Dwarven Road to the Keep, she says that she chose to strike out on her own... with all of the strange habits and pets in her tow.


M
Vital Stats:
Halfling Cleric 5 HP 33/33 | AC 19 |Init. +3 | Speed 25ft | Passive Perception 13

Dotting post incoming.


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

OOC:

I can do some summons as well. We'll make melee work as best we can.

GM, I added some mundane gear (rations and a tent) with some of the gold I had left.

Walking along the middle of the caravan is a fit, pleasant seeming human. Despite the load, his pack is clearly designed to make the weight easier to bear, and he seems to have no trouble with it. He is dressed in the manner of one who spends a great deal of time on the road, and yet his bearing and the scroll cases attached to his pack speak more to a scholar than a road-weary traveler. Slung across his back is a simple crossbow, a case of bolts at his side, opposite a plain, simple dagger, of the sort any person might purchase as an all-around utility knife.

As they have journeyed, others have gotten to know him as a friendly chap who occasionally slips into the mode of lecturer when speaking about certain topics. A professor on sabbatical from a university is what he most reminds his fellow travelers of, although few professors would maintain a morning exercise routine. Still, each morning before breakfast he would awaken and go through his stretches and exercises. Then, over breakfast, he would sit and quietly read a book for an hour or so, ignoring most attempts at conversation, before putting the book away and engaging with his fellow travelers.

Though he says he is no merchant, he clearly has a good idea of the value of items, and in particular seems to be very knowledgeable on the subject of jewelry. He would sometimes explain how to tell the difference between real gemstones and bits of colored glass, and between gold jewelry and brass shined to look gold. He may be no merchant, but it seems he could very easily make a living as one.

Now as the Keep grows closer, he stretches on the move and peers ahead, as though eager to arrive at their destination.


Please dot the discussion thread if you haven't already.

If you have a familiar/animal companion/mount please make sure it is statted up at the bottom of your stat block.

If you are likely to summon anything, please be ready with its stat block in your profile the first time you do - especially if you have Augment summoning or similar shenanigans that force me to remember how it works.


HP: 13/17; AC: 16; Tch: 12; Flt: 14; Fort: +5; Refl: +4; Will: +4; CMD: 17|Skill Totals:
Prepared Spells:
0th: Detect Magic, Guidance, Light; 1st: Bless, Protection From Evil, Domain: Truestrike;

Having just finished relieving himself on a tree some distance from the path, Blaughter makes his way back to the caravan. He is a man of immense girth in both the abdominal and facial hair region. Even while out making water he keeps his kit and accompaniments close at hand, using his long handled spear as a walking stick while navigating the off track terrain.

Over the days of travel he's conducted himself as a jovial enough companion, more than happy to help anyone in the caravan not accustom to roughing it, joking and telling stories about the fire at night...in fact, it appears he is quite fond of regaling the group with some story or another. If even half of them are to be believed, he's been on the field in nearly every major battle in this region and all neighbors for the past twenty years. Perhaps it's just the number of days spent traveling making everyone's tells sound alike, but last night's grand tell sounded an awful lot like one someone in the caravan told the first night...

"Lunch time already?" He says hopefully, eyeing Orono's "pet" feast upon some woodland creature or another. His tone is friendly, though he gives the spider a wide birth and nervous glance.

OOC:

Would like to pick up a few last bits of gear if that's alright. Rope, rations, a tent, things like that.


Male Hobgoblin Grenadier 2 | AC 16 | HP 17/17 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 | CMB +2, CMD 15 | Init +5 | Perception +6

Full physical description of Margût can be found in his profile. Feel free to take a peek.

The sight of the lone rider had been a cause of alarm at first, even more so after the caravaneers had recognised the cloaked figure as a hobgoblin. Seeing the warlike goblinoids—and even more unusual creatures—was not unheard of in Molthune, though it was less common to see them outside of a military setting. Rumours abounded that he was an envoy from Molthune to the keep, a lost scout from some border skirmish, or even a bandit. He seemed content to trail the caravan from a distance, however, and offered mostly monosyllabic answers to any attempt at communication. Soon the drivers ceased their queries, and tried to drive the 'monster' away. When pelted with rocks, the figure rode off, only to appear again later. Finally the drivers lost interest, and decided to simply ignore the stubborn straggler.

From there on out, the hobgoblin had proved out to be an unexpected boon. Most people would have had trouble noticing the figure moving around the camp during nighttime, and those perceptive enough might initially have been alarmed to see a pair of baleful yellow eyes glowing in the darkness, reflecting the light of the campfires. Goblins and their ilk were known as cowardly killers, after all, wont to murder unwary travellers in their sleep. More often than not, however, those eyes had been turned away from the sleepers, out at the wilderness. He frequently rode off from the caravan during the day, quietly patrolling the perimeter. Those who set off from the road to find water found that a path had already been marked for them, guiding them straight to the nearest stream. The illusive creature seemed to hunt his own food, and set up camp at a distance from the wagons.

If he ever rested, the hobgoblin did so where no one could see.


Female Human (Shoanti)| HP 15/15 | Init+2; Per +9 | AC 18, T 12, FF 16 | F +3, R +2, W +7| Druid (Lion Shaman) 2

The dark haired Shoanti woman, you've noticed, tends to move about the caravan throughout the day. She is substantially built, wears greenish dyed hide armor and has a rugged shield and bow strapped to her back. A large, gnarled tree limb serving as a club hangs from one hip. Her clothing is worn but well cared for and she always seems to smell faintly of lavender.

She is friendly with everyone in the caravan and seems genuinely interested in the hobgoblin, gnome and dwarf who travel with her. She assists others in their duties throughout the camp where she can, making sure not to get in their way and volunteering to take first watch every night. She wakes well before the dawn, ensures she is the first one up and climbs on top of one of the caravans to celebrate the coming of the morning sun in her own way.

The woman's pet cougar is usually at her side and at times she speaks harshly to it, especially if it gets too curious about the black haired woman's spider. It doesn't seem particularly friendly with anyone other than her, though it hasn't snarled or threatened anyone in the caravan. The cougar is somewhat feral and lanky looking and you can see that it has two different colored eyes, giving it a somewhat odd appearance.

At night, the woman shares stories of her youth and travels and encourages others to do the same, politely hoping to get to know those she travels with better. After her watch shift is over, she takes the cougar far away from the caravan (but not out of sight) and wrestles with it, always coming back with a smile on her face.

As the caravan approaches the Keep, the woman tries to keep her excitement to a minimum though it still shows on her face.


Human Monk (Master of Many Styles) 2/ Sacred Fist Warpriest 4 HP:10/10|AC:17|T:15|FF:12|CMB:+3|CMD:18|Fort:+3|Ref:+4|Will:+5|Init:+2|Perc :+7|Acro+6|

On his horse ranging from side to side of the caravan is the young man Houk. He's very fit and strong a solid build and an irreverent smile on his face, his armour consists of hexagonal plates made from iron and sewn to cloth, an eastern design.

Houks horse has full saddle bags and he also has a decent sized pack.

On his hips are star knives attached to his belt via hooks, a buckler is strapped to his arm and he also has a battleaxe.

He keeps a bit of an eye on the hobgoblin at times, not quite believing they are travelling with one.

Houk seems to be a little impatient, he always seems to be doing something, either throwing star knives at trees, logs or small animals to eat when camp is made, he is a very good shot. Houk also spends time sharpening his blades, probably due to the fact he keeps throwing them int steel blunting wood all the time.

He will chat about various subjects even though he's no real expert.


M
Vital Stats:
Halfling Cleric 5 HP 33/33 | AC 19 |Init. +3 | Speed 25ft | Passive Perception 13

Those who have been with the caravan are familiar with Roscoe's routine. The out of depth halfling is attached to a small militia unit traveling with the caravan. He unlike the other soldiers who rise with military precision he is kicked awake or hit with a bucket of water. He grumbles for several minutes and then works to prep breakfast for the other soldiers. He seems to get along well with most of the other troops save for a grizzly commander who clearly hates him and one or two tropps who are generally bullies. Once the caravan gets underway he is placed in several sets of manacles and stocks and is forced to walk behind one if the militia's supply wagons. He has shed a bit of the pudge he carried his clothes hanging a bit looser. Still when he knows he is not being watched close he wiggles free of his restraints and finds a place to sit on the back of the wagon though he keeps announcing complaints so as not to make the wagon driver aware he is free. Three days back the commander gave up tryin to restrain the halfling instead making him dig the nightly latrine, which has upset several of the soldiers who enjoy the halflings cooking.

Curious of the rest of the caravan he often strikes up conversation with other travelers. He seems to steer as clear of the hobgoblin as possible.
He often smirks at the cougar as if contemplating if he has the guts to pet it. The spider creeps him out, though he has traded sarcastic barbs with the spider's mistress. The halfling not at all a soldier bumbles even more around Blaughter and politely thanks him when help is offered. He likes stories when he has the opportunity and shared stories of barroom hijinks from his days working in the city. If there is anything that will spoil from his cooking he makes sure to share and he seems a fair cook.

As the halfling catches sight of the keep he says loudly to the other militia and others near, "Perhaps someone might suggest to the captain that we not ride in with uniforms showing. . . they fly no flag could be Molthune holds the keep." He glances up at the grizzled captain and moves away before the old veteran chews him out. He loosens up his belt pouch palms a sling stone and frees his sling staff from his back. He looks about then makes effort to be non-threatening.


The drizzle dies away as the caravan rumbles through the portcullis and into the courtyard of the Keep. The two guards at the gate, pressing themselves against the stonework in their heavy cloaks to avoid the wind, exchange short words of greeting with the caravan master as the wagons pass through. More guards can be seen on the walls above. The discipline and dress of the soldiers is pragmatic and efficient, but there is no sense of urgency. It seems that the Keep is not expecting trouble.

The outer courtyard is obviously home to the Keep’s civilian population, and resembles more a village square than a military base. Inside the walls are numerous two story buildings, mostly shops or workshops with quarters above. A stables and farrier, a blacksmith, a general store, a provisioners, a tailor, a carpenter’s workshop, and what appears to be a pawnbroker, as well as several storehouses. On one side of the square is a roofed well, and most of the other side is given up to animal pens, mostly empty. Chickens fuss underfoot. A narrow gate with another portcullis, guarded by two more soldiers, leads to the inner courtyard.
The caravan halts in front of the Bree-Yark Inn, the only three-storey building in the courtyard, whose shingled roof reaches almost the height of the Keep’s walls. The arrival of the caravan appears to be a big event for the Keep’s residents, many of whom come to the doors of their homes to watch. A few excited children look on in awe.

“Right, get the wagons unloaded and the horses stabled” shouts the caravan master to his drivers. “Then see me for your pay. Then you can get on with spending it on what passes for ale in this place – or other things if you’ve a fancy.” He gestures with his thumb to the two obvious doxies loitering under the eaves of the inn, and there is ribald laughter from the men.

Turning to the seven travellers who had accompanied the caravan, he says “Right, well here ye are. We rest the horses for a day, and leave the morning after next. I’ll be back in a month, so if’n ye be wanting anything, make sure you places your order before then. Otherwise, good luck to ye. If ye be lookin to enlist, or to get a freesword’s charter, you’ll need to see the Officer in the morning.”

The leader of the platoon that accompanied the caravan with Roscoe is in hushed conversation with a man wearing a soldier’s uniform with the stripes of a sergeant, and gestures towards Roscoe with his thumb. The sergeant wanders over. “Right, master Halfling. Seems they thought we might have a use for you, but we don’t take conscripts, mainly ‘cos they desert the first chance they gets. So if you wants to enlist, see the Officer in the mornin but we warned – the pay is terrible and the food is worse. If you wants to go back, go back. And if you wants to stay” he raises a beefy finger to Roscoe’s nose “behave. If I catches you thievin’ I’ll hang you from the tower meself. Understand?” He glances over to Minah. “And you miss – keep yer beast away from the horses and livestock, or you’ll be liable for it, and you” he gestures at Margut “we take folk here as we find them. Don't give us cause to change our minds. Carry on.”


Male Hobgoblin Grenadier 2 | AC 16 | HP 17/17 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 | CMB +2, CMD 15 | Init +5 | Perception +6
GM_Ragged wrote:
"...and you" he gestures at Margut "we take folk here as we find them. Don't give us cause to change our minds. Carry on."

Margût nods evenly. He pulls back his hood, slowly, as if trying to not make any sudden movements. The hobgoblin seems to pay little heed to the gathered crowd of civilians, instead fixing his gaze on the soldiers on the battlements, and the wall itself.

Knowledge (engineering): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
Profession (soldier): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Trying to assess any apparent weaknesses in the keep's defenses, architectural and otherwise. More specifically, something Margût can point out later to ingratiate himself to the people in charge.


The Keep seems sound, although it could probably do with a bit of maintenance. The rust on the portcullis shows it hasn't been used in a while. In fact all these civilian buildings, with their wooden and thatched roofs, are obviously not intended to stand up to a seige. There are soldiers on the wall, but there probably should be more.

In short, the Keep is functioning as a military outpost, but not one that is expecting trouble, or has seen action in a while.


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

"Pardon, good sir, but what might be a freesword's charter? I don't believe I've encountered the like before," Henris asked the caravan master, wondering if he would need one to investigate the valley.


"HA! It's a license to mint money for the Castellan, is what it is! Every season there's folk come up here, calling themselves 'freeswords' or 'adventurers' or somesuch. Looking to make their forture slaying monsters and taking their gold. Well, the Castellan will happily tax anything they bring back to the keep at thirty percent. But a charter will reduce that to ten percent for the whole company - up to ten folk! A snip at only five hundred gold - it'll save you thousands when you slay your first dragon, lad!"


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

"Ah, I see. Thank you, good master, for the information. I am simply curious about what might be around the keep, so I am unsure if I shall need one. A pleasant day to you and yours, and safe travels back to the town." Having thanked the cargo master for his aid, Henris turns and looks at the Inn, before shrugging and moving to enter the building.


Human Monk (Master of Many Styles) 2/ Sacred Fist Warpriest 4 HP:10/10|AC:17|T:15|FF:12|CMB:+3|CMD:18|Fort:+3|Ref:+4|Will:+5|Init:+2|Perc :+7|Acro+6|

Houk counts out his money

"Umm well I don't have 500 coins to get a freeswords charter, If any of you are looking to make one up, i'll be willing to join and help buy it."

After that he makes his way to the inn stables, he stables his horse and then steps into the inn. He walks upto whoever seems the most authoritative serving person.

"innkeep, I need a room for the night, food and drink and stabling for my horse please"


Female Human (Shoanti)| HP 15/15 | Init+2; Per +9 | AC 18, T 12, FF 16 | F +3, R +2, W +7| Druid (Lion Shaman) 2
GM_Ragged wrote:
“And you miss – keep yer beast away from the horses and livestock, or you’ll be liable for it,

Minah gives Sasha the stink eye and walks about the outer courtyard, greeting folk (if they are friendly) as she tries to get an idea of the layout, what's for sale and where everything is. After she's got a good grasp of what's what, she will head to the Bree-Yark Inn and try and book a room for herself as well.

She speaks to Houk (and whoever else in the group is in the Inn at the time): "It sounds as if we are going to need to come up with some pooled gold. Should save us some money in the long run, but we'll need to earn some before we have THAT much, I think. Unless someone is generous and wants to pay for the freeswords charter upfront..."


M
Vital Stats:
Halfling Cleric 5 HP 33/33 | AC 19 |Init. +3 | Speed 25ft | Passive Perception 13
GM_Ragged wrote:
The leader of the platoon that accompanied the caravan with Roscoe is in hushed conversation with a man wearing a soldier’s uniform with the stripes of a sergeant, and gestures towards Roscoe with his thumb. The sergeant wanders over. “Right, master Halfling. Seems they thought we might have a use for you, but we don’t take conscripts, mainly ‘cos they desert the first chance they gets. So if you wants to enlist, see the Officer in the mornin but we warned – the pay is terrible and the food is worse. If you wants to go back, go back. And if you wants to stay” he raises a beefy finger to Roscoe’s nose “behave. If I catches you thievin’ I’ll hang you from the tower meself. Understand?”

Roscoe seems aghast at the idea of desertion, "I would never desert," the halfling holds up a hand hoping to finish his thought, "I mean technically. The captain found me very near the battle and I was waiting for the precise moment to . . . you know pounce. Strike while the iron is hot." Roscoe listens to the rest of the warning eyes glazing over and head wandering toward interesting things. "Steal no I mean from no one that doesn't deserve to lose . . . its like a social justice thing. Never mind." He trails off when he sees that his words fall on deaf earys. Perhaps I should explain to the captain that I tend to take from those who are bullies. He might count his coins. The halfling stifles a chuckle that remains a smirk for a few seconds.

Roscoe seems very happy about being able to say so long to his former militia band. He seemed to have a few that he was chummy with but the idea of being out from under the thumb of the Captain was music to his heart.

He listens when the professorial human asked about the 'Freesword Charter' he thinks aloud, "Enlist good gods no . . . print money I am in." He frowns when the mention of slaying monsters is mentioned but his smile swiftly returns at the mention of the gold. "So the Castillan gets a vig either way but gets it 3 times without a charter."

Roscoe looks Houk's way when he mentions pooling resources. "Might be a good plan. Got to say finding treasure sounds better than digging latrines . . . and from the looks of this place that's about the work they would find for a new recruit. We should definitely see about getting the fat guy, the panther girl in with us . . . maybe the spider lady and the professor." He looks over in the hobgoblin's direction then looks toward the inn.

Once in the inn Roscoe assesses as best he can the quality of the inn, the stock he can see and if it looks like it might have something good to offer.

appraise: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

He orders an ale if it is available and asks probing questions about the menu and food prep. He orders something appropriate for the nearest meal.

Roscoe nods at Minah's suggestion, "Houk and I were just saying that. I don't have enough to up the full 500 but . . . we can pool resources." He thinks a moment, "If one was to give a larger share toward the charter . . . I mean fairness might suggest that they get a larger percent on the split." He sips his drink.


Dotted with permission


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

Overhearing the three discussing the possibility of purchasing a freesword's charter, Henris approaches and says, "Pardon me, but I overheard your conversation. I have been considering exploring the environs around the keep, and I believe it would be much safer in a group as opposed to on my own. I would be more than happy to contribute to purchasing a charter. If we leave it at just the 4 of us, each would need to pay 125 gold towards the purchase."

At Roscoe's suggestion, Henris frowns and says, "While that would certainly be fair, uneven splits can get messy. I would propose that if one person did have to pay a larger share towards the cost of the charter, the others should be obliged to pay them back the difference out of their loot. However, the shares should stay even overall to avoid any messiness."

Henris will order an ale, as well.


HP: 13/17; AC: 16; Tch: 12; Flt: 14; Fort: +5; Refl: +4; Will: +4; CMD: 17|Skill Totals:
Prepared Spells:
0th: Detect Magic, Guidance, Light; 1st: Bless, Protection From Evil, Domain: Truestrike;

Blaughter listens in on the conversation about charters and dragons, chuckling quietly to himself at the idea of bringing a wyrm down an time soon...then follows the others into the inn.

"[b]Oh I've a few coins saved up I could toss into the pot, get us started."


Male Hobgoblin Grenadier 2 | AC 16 | HP 17/17 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 | CMB +2, CMD 15 | Init +5 | Perception +6

Margût follows Houk to the stables and into the inn, watching him intently. Though his stalking might seem suspicious at first, the the hobgoblin's expression is primarily that of confusion, as if he were unsure how to act in such an everyday situation. After Houk asks for a room, he steps in and hands the inn keeper a few silvers, nodding at the human as if to say, "What he said."

As the others start discussing the charter, Margût draws closer. When he speaks, his voice is dry and rasping, and he seems to chew his words as if the syllables Common tongue tasted foul in his mouth. "I'm in, if you'll have me. I've no gold, but I've fought in many battles."


INACTIVE - GAME DIED

Orono's first stop is also the stable, to haggle over care for her pony. The spider actually climbs inside of her pack and huddles there like an angry, spiky black cat.

Once that matter is resolved, she finds herself dragged into the matter of the would-be charter. "So... enough people come through here looking for gold in the wilds that the Castellan is able to fund his Keep on the sale of these charters? I presumed that I would have to earn my living by trail-guiding, hunting, and trapping. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to get more details about these 'wild stories' of gold in the mountains before committing a large sum to what could be a fool's errand that will never pay out a single nugget."


M
Vital Stats:
Halfling Cleric 5 HP 33/33 | AC 19 |Init. +3 | Speed 25ft | Passive Perception 13

Roscoe seems a little jumpy when the hobgoblin gets close. But settles when it seems his intentions are like minded.

Roscoe wags his finger at Orono, "Spider lady has a solid point. Either there is no gold in them there hills or no one is bringing it to the Castilian." He shrugs, "If we gather enough to make dropping 5 plat worth it then it can come from the spoils." He looks around and gets quiet, "We will just need to keep any score secret till we get the charter. Otherwise its thrice the vig."


Human Monk (Master of Many Styles) 2/ Sacred Fist Warpriest 4 HP:10/10|AC:17|T:15|FF:12|CMB:+3|CMD:18|Fort:+3|Ref:+4|Will:+5|Init:+2|Perc :+7|Acro+6|

Assuming this is in the inn

Houk is wolfing down his food accompanied by large draughts of ale.

"I agree with the scary spider lady.. Orono? We should investigate first."


The common room of the Bree-Yark Inn is dim and cozy, with many pleasant nooks and small tables. A bar stands in one corner, with a few tapped kegs on a shelf, and a dusty display of bottles of wine, various cordials, and flasks of dwarven whisky. Along one side wall a great fireplace blazes, with wooden racks beside it for drying cloaks. The air smells of bread, beer, and wet wool.

The inn is run by a couple - Doris and Joe. It soon becomes clear that there is a division of labour - Doris does pretty much everything, and Joe drinks away the profits behind the bar.

Doris fusses over the new arrivals, taking their cloaks and hanging them to dry, seating them with bowls of steaming stew and fresh bread, while Joe pours the drinks.

"Yes, yes" she flusters, "rooms for everyone, but I has to make them up first - put on fresh sheets and such. You all sit and fill your bellies first, and we'll sort you out rooms. I've only doubles mind, so decide who's sharin' with who."

The stew is terrible, and the ale isn't much better.

A twin room, with bed, fireplace and two lockers, is 5 silver per person per night. A bed in the bunkroom is 2 silver. This includes dinner (stew and bread) and breakfast (yesterdays stew and bread, plus fried eggs). Stabling is 1sp per night, as are mugs of ale. Doris can provide better fare with a bit of notice - mainly sausages or roast chicken and potatoes - and also takes in laundry for 2 silver per load.

Doris views those with companion animals suspiciously. "Is that one o' them family-yars? Well you tell it to behave itself and not go causin' trouble. We had a feller here a few seasons back had one o' them - what did he call it Joe?"

"Soodydragon" calls Joe.

"That's it - soodydragon. Cheeky thing it were. Anyway, I don't want your beasties jumpin' out o' cupboards and scarin' decent folk."


Surveying the contents of the bar, Roscoe spots what may actually be a decent bottle of wine gathering dust with the assorted bottles of cheap Galtan table wine.


Doris leans close to Margut. "When the off-duty soldiers start with their name-callin', you just ignore them. They'll be tryin' to get an excuse to start somethin'. We've seen a few soldiers like you comin' through, but there's wild gobbos - 'scue me, goblin folk - out there, and a few o' the boys have lost friends to 'em."


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

Henris thoughtfully looks at Orono and says, "A very valid point. I see no harm in doing some reconnoitering of the area to determine if there is any value out there. Perhaps we should also ask the locals what they know."

Henris waves to Doris and asks her, "You must have seen so many adventurers come through here - tell me, have they had success? Do they leave, arms full of gold, or have they merely spent money and resources only to come up empty-handed? We are most curious, as a freesword's charter is quite the investment. One would not want to spend the money only to come up with nothing."


Doris looks thoughtful. "Well dearie, there's usually one or two groups each season. Most of 'em are lookin' for lost Quasqueton, hoping to find piles o' gold or magic swords or whatnot. They mostly go trampin' around the woods, get ambushed by the goblins, and come away with not much. Now, it seems to me that if they went after the goblins first, then they'd have much less trouble, but what does I know?"


Male Hobgoblin Grenadier 2 | AC 16 | HP 17/17 | Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +1 | CMB +2, CMD 15 | Init +5 | Perception +6
Roscoe Tosscobble wrote:
"We will just need to keep any score secret till we get the charter. Otherwise its thrice the vig."

Margût bares his sharp, yellowed teeth at the halfling, though it is hard to tell if he is smiling or sneering. "Bite the hand that feeds you?"

GM_Ragged wrote:
Doris leans close to Margut. "When the off-duty soldiers start with their name-callin', you just ignore them. They'll be tryin' to get an excuse to start somethin'. We've seen a few soldiers like you comin' through, but there's wild gobbos - 'scue me, goblin folk - out there, and a few o' the boys have lost friends to 'em."

The hobgoblin nods in acknowledgment, though he does not seem particularly concerned. His kin would do much worse than name-calling if they found a human walking in their midst...


M
Vital Stats:
Halfling Cleric 5 HP 33/33 | AC 19 |Init. +3 | Speed 25ft | Passive Perception 13

Roscoe looks at Doris and quietly asks. "I think I see what might be a real treat among your wines . . . how much to get that bottle to the table. I will also go for a bit t of that stew and some fresh bread."
As she turns to go he also stops to ask very quietly. "I see no flag on the keep. Are we in Nirmathas or Molthune."


Male Human (Varisian) Cleric (Varisian Pilgrim) 1 | HP 9/9 | AC 12, T 12, FF 10 | Fort +3, Ref +2, Will +5 | Condition: | Init +2; Perception +3 | Channel Energy 4/4 |
Domain Abilities:
Storm Burst - 6/6, Enlarge - 6/6
Spells:
1st - 3/3

"Possibly more than you could ever realize. Thank you very much for the information. You are a most excellent hostess."

He hands her a few silver as thanks, then turns to the others. "If there is any large treasure out there, no other group has come through and found it. They have, however, spent coin to get a charter and had nothing to show for it. Perhaps, on the morrow, we should reconnoiter, and take care of any goblins we encounter. The goblins might also know the locations of any hordes, although their information may be less than trustworthy. No offense meant, good hobgoblin, but your smaller kin do tend to be rather erratic."


Roscoe Tosscobble wrote:
Roscoe looks at Doris and quietly asks. "I think I see what might be a real treat among your wines . . . how much to get that bottle to the table. I will also go for a bit t of that stew and some fresh bread."

"Wine is one gold per bottle. We don't get much call for it out here. I think we was given that bottle by a feller what couldn't settle his bill in cash. I shall have to look out some glasses."

Roscoe Tosscobble wrote:
As she turns to go he also stops to ask very quietly. "I see no flag on the keep. Are we in Nirmathas or Molthune."

"Well, it's been years, and neither o' them has seen fit to come an' claim us. And really, what difference would it make one way or the other?"


HP: 13/17; AC: 16; Tch: 12; Flt: 14; Fort: +5; Refl: +4; Will: +4; CMD: 17|Skill Totals:
Prepared Spells:
0th: Detect Magic, Guidance, Light; 1st: Bless, Protection From Evil, Domain: Truestrike;

"Oh you're a darling star in the night's sky lass," Blaughter says in thanks when Doris brings the food and drinks to the table. Through most of the conversation he adds little beyond a noncommittal grunt here and an appropriately placed chuckle there, seeming more concerned with his own thoughts than the details of the charter.

The prospect of a nice bottle of wine is enough to draw him out of his head though. "Aha, this is why I love traveling with the wee folk," he says after Roscoe points out the bottle to Doris. "Sharp eyes and impeccable taste!"


Female Human (Shoanti)| HP 15/15 | Init+2; Per +9 | AC 18, T 12, FF 16 | F +3, R +2, W +7| Druid (Lion Shaman) 2

"Miss Doris, do you know if the goblins have a hideout around anywhere? If so, where might it be? Oh, and I'll take a twin room for myself as well. I assure you my companion here (points at Sasha) will behave herself."

Minah slides Doris 2 gold coins.

1 to 50 of 511 << first < prev | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | next > last >>
Community / Forums / Online Campaigns / Play-by-Post / GM Ragged's Keep on the Borderlands - B All Messageboards

Want to post a reply? Sign in.