Hmm's Gallows of Madness : Foul Breed (Inactive)

Game Master Hmm

Potions of invisibility! What sort of delinquent does this woman cater to?

Zakhar scowls and draws a spiral over his heart before assuming a more professional expression and tone.

"No, no. We are here on behalf of the mayor and at the request of one Zarta Dralneen to investigate the disappearance of several youths in the past few weeks." he pulls out the list of names from his pocket. "Ms. Pricknettle, what can you tell us about Gellion Vezzaro?"

After a moment, he coughs politely and returns the list of names to his pocket.

Prince touches his own symbol of Pharasma upon seeing Zakhar making what Prince believes to be his Goddess' sign: "Here is one who will attend when I perform Mass".
Meanwhile, he studies the fine Mistress Pricknettle, to try and see if she answers truthfully.
SM: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

"Potions of invisibility... Hmm, that does sound tempting..." Lord Braggett considers the possibilities for a moment, scratching his blue beard. After a few moments of deliberation, he finally shakes his head as if to dismiss the thought "Alas, as my friend says, we are not here to find potions, but rather your missing apprentice. Lady Zarta has sent us to aid you in whatever way we can." He puffs out his chest proudly "Rest assured, we shall find the child, but anything you can say to help will be greatly appreciated!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Does the GM hear the sounds of Aid Anothers on Diplomacy? Or other Diplomacy attempts?

Majara Pricknettle’s whole manner goes frosty in an instant. “Please inform Paracountess Zarta Dralneen that I do not need her kind of help.” She looks like she’s about to escort you lot to the door, when she pauses and hesitates. “I might accept the help of Pathfinders, though. Just not in her name. I’ve see first hand the kind of help that woman offers those she calls ‘friends’ and I want no more of it.”

Still cool, she says. “Gelly is my apprentice. He’s late for work.” Then a bit of anxiety shows through. “By almost 6 days.”

"The Paracountess asked us to extend her apologies as well." Zakhar says, softening his voice some. "I don't know what happened in the past, but right now we are here to find Gelly and bring him home."

Diplomacy(aid): 1d20 ⇒ 15

"And you should not let old bad blood come in the way of your worries for Gellion. We are here to help find him! Let us focus on that".
Diplo' Aid Another: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10

Castiel steps from behind his companions.... Ma ‘am… I’ve only known my fellow Pathfinders for a short while but enough time has passed that I assure you they are true to their word. I pledge to you as my word is my oath that we will find Gellion as well as the other apprentices and seek justice for any wrong doing.

Diplo aid another : 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13
Kragrak speaks softly, "I'm here because I'm a Pathfinder, and because when kids are in trouble, I help. Anything else you can tell us about Gellion? Where he lives? Who his friends are?"

Wetbeard lets out an unceremonious snort and waves a hand. "Not our business her relationship Zarta, if Maj here loathes Zarta more power to her. I'm sure she has her reasons."

Wetbeard absently begins exploring the shop, a spark of fascination behind his eyes. "The only thing our little band of heroes here wants to do is find some missing lads. Any assistance you can offer, Miss Pricknettle?" After a moment of pause, he adds. "A scrap of clothing, or some other article of theirs, may be of help."

Oak Spirit chuckles, "I can tell you for sure that we're not discreet! But you can trust us." The leshy leans in over the counter, "I don't suppose you have ointments for plants, do you? Perhaps something to keep away the borer beetles?"

"If you think Zarta's a hag, wait till you get to know this wart-covered toad!", says Princess, shaking her fist at Prince. "But I'll pitch in finding the brats".

Botting Castiel's Aid Another Diplomacy Roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

After listening to all of you, Majara softens a bit. "Have you ever had a truly gifted student? One that just is boundless in seeking knowledge? Gelly's special. Bright mind, hard worker... If he wasn't always hanging around with that wild girl, Nolaria --" She breaks off. "I'm sure she's gotten him into trouble, somehow. She's always gallivanting around with crazy ideas and expeditions. On a few occasions, she's led them on herb-gathering missions outside the walls of town! You'd think a preacher's daughter would be more wise."

She glances down at Sprout, and her whole face changes. Her wild blue eyebrows rise, and she grins. "My word, a leshy! I don't think I've ever seen one of your kind before. I have some gardening potions... But not an ointment specifically designed for plants. Though that would be a very interesting project. I bet Gelly--" She breaks off. "Or I could do it," she says. "It would be a good project for me."

Kragak and Wetbeard's requests startle her, and she purses her lips. "I'm sorry. It would be unethical of me to give you such personal information on Gelly. I won't violate his privacy by giving you his personal address... Not without a very good reason." She looks curiously at Wetbeard, taking in his tentacles and odd appearance without comment. "Why do you want an article of clothing? You should know this town frowns strongly on arcane magic, outside of alchemy. Even scrying could get you the wrong kind of attention here."

Majara… Can you please tell us more about Nolaria? Where we might be able to find her? What is the Preachers name and location in the city?

Wetbeard chuckles, a motion that causes his feelers to bounce happily. "Ye wound me Maj, I'm more refined than that." Wetbeard lifts his hands up, pulling his feelers apart to reveal the face that lies beneath, its eyes snapping open to look around. "She's a might treat to look at eh? Her name's Wanda." He closes his tentacles, hiding her from sight again.

"She's good a good nose on her, you'd be surprised how well she can track. Something to go off could make tracking ol' Gelly much easier."

“The temple of Erastil’s easy to find.” Majara sketches a quick map of town on the otherside of the scrap with all the names on it.

SLIDE THREE

When Wanda peeks out, the gnome’s eyebrows raise sky-high. “Oh. I’ve heard of these. You’re a fellow alchemist?”

Wetbeard chortles and leans forward, feelers twisting in the air before the gnome. "Not a chance, lass. Wanda here is natural, as part of me as me own legs. It's a taint in me blood."

“This clothing item.” She pauses, thinking. “You’ll only be using it for the scent? Not as a spell component? Forgive me for making you repeat this, but you did say that Zarta sent you all.”

"On me honor, Miss Pricknettle. Perhaps a demonstration is in order." Wetbeard holds an arm to the floor and in a strange (and slightly sickening) display, the lump of flesh travels down his arm, forms a fleshy ball in his hand, then rolls onto the floor. Tiny legs sprout out from the mass, creating a cannonball sized lump of flesh that's curiously chittering about.

"Whatcha smell girlie?" While Maj is distracted he plucks one of her hairs, laughing as he does. He passes it down to Wanda, offering it to the lump. "Show 'er what a good nose ya got, find another hair around here." He waves a hand at the gnome woman. "Besides the ones on her head lass."
Perception (Scent): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (16) + 16 = 32

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

A bit afraid, Prince looks at Wanda, who is as big as him, is she a frog eater? he wonders, before turning his attention to the store owner again: "Mistress Majara, we understand you are protective of your apprentice. But how can we find him if you hide his address from us? Unless you do not truly want him found? Not finding him could mean that more will be violated for him than just his privacy, maybe his life. As for Arcane Arts, I am a Priest of Pharasma," as he shows his Holy Symbol, 'and only follow Divine Orders. Now, come, truly help us find the boy and make sure he is safe."

Wanda finds a dark hair under a work bench, and brings it back to Wetbeard.

“Of course I want him found!” Majara says with heat. “But I don’t violate trust or friendship, unlike some people we BOTH know!” She jumps down from the chair, turns her back on you, and leaves in a swirl of skirts. She comes back a few minutes later, and throws an old dark wool sock at the feet of Wanda.

“Like most teenage boys, Gelly is a slob. He leaves his socks everywhere. It... used to drive me crazy.” She sets to nervously polishing and cleaning her glassware. “But I guess that bad habit will come in handy now. Find him, and bring him back. Please.”

On to the next place, or do you still have questions?

"Oi, Maj." Wetbeard gives the anxious gnome a reassuring nod. "We'll find your Gelly, rest easy. I'm sure he's alright." Wetbeard holds down his hand, letting Wanda remerge with his body and pocketing the sock. "And if gods forbid he ain't, he will be soon. Not letting any young'uns die on my watch."

With that Wetbeard moves to the door, waiting for the rest of the group to move out.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

"Rest assured Ms. Picknettle. I have no take with practitioners of the arcane arts." he says, a hand on his chest where his holy symbol rests under his shirt. He nods to the door, "Do the gallows see much use anymore?"

Outside:
"That girl she mentioned is an apprentice at the Temple of Erastil. Who else has she been running about with?" Zakhar takes a moment to orient himself once outside the door, pausing to look in the direction of the gallows before beginning North.

"Fancy a stop at the Tavern, anyone?"

"I can't hold my liquor down. Literally", Princess gives Zakhar a dour look.

Lord Braggett makes a quick exit when the subject of the gallows comes up. Once outside, he looks at Zakhar in shock "How can you speak about taverns at a time like this?! We just gave that lady our word that we will find her apprentice! Young man, have you no honour?" He trots off haughtily, but stops dead after a few moments when he is struck by a brilliant idea "Wait a minute... One of the missing apprentices came from the tavern! If you must insist on getting a drink, at least we can question the proprietor about the absent child. Ha! That's why I was assigned to such a strange group of Pathfinders. Someone needs to keep you lot on track!"

"What a brilliant idea, M'Lord." he says, almost believably. Zakhar's eyes scan the road ahead as he speaks, "The tavern is also the best place to talk to locals and pick up on rumors."

Castiel stares down at the gnome “Not all of us are “strange” Lord Braggett… I am here to assist in any way I can and intend to do what is necessary to fulfill my oaths to Ms. Dralneen!! Whoever or whatever is at the center of these abductions must be stopped… Castiel stares a moment longer and turns to Zakhar “I’ll follow you into the tavern…but lets not waste time…. I fear the worst is at hand…

Me lord Torag, what have I gotten myself into? How ken honor ye in this cause? This group be so “out of tha ordinary” and what be that thin' that crawled off tha Orc? Be thar evil a foot?

Inside

"Have the gallows seen use lately? Not in the last few years, thankfully." Majara responds. Then she bites her lip and takes a moment to answer. "Witch hunts are terrible things. They sweep up innocents more often then guilty. I hope this town has seen the last of them. Please don't mistake me. I hold no disdain for practitioners of the arcane -- how could I? I was born in one of the most magical places on Golarian, Umok. It's solely the dark arts I disdain."

Outside

The Witch's End Tavern is a cheery looking place, despite the sign that hangs over the door depicts a dark-haired figure burning at the stake. It appears to be doing a roaring lunch business, though its six foot tall proprietess looks at you sourly when you come in. "There's a free table over there, but you'll have to wait! It's just me serving everyone today, and we're backed up worse than an Egorian sewer!"

It does look like she's being overwhelmed by the business, but there are lots of other people waiting too. Some appear to be locals, others groups of traveling merchants and river men off the boat docks.

Those of you inclined to gather information might be able to visit other tables and gather rumors. Or you can do other things, too. I'll leave it to your creativity.

Zakhar.. I won’t be sitting. We need to make haste. I’ll look around for anything to help us while we wait for the Proprietress.

Castiel heads over to a group near the fireplace to see if they have seen or heard of anything…

Want to give me a diplomacy roll and what you're saying to the locals, Castiel?

Castiel’s Diplomacy Roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Have you seen in or around the town anyone or anything out of the ordinary?
What have you seen or heard about the disappearances of people in this town?
Can you tell me where the local church is?
Do You know the local Preacher and where you last saw him or her?

Looks like she could use some help. And I hate waiting for a meal.

To determine whether the woman would appreciate a helping hand
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

If he doesn't get the sense she would refuse, he makes the offer
Zakhar removes his gauntlets, sword, and pack and sets them near the party's table. Then he approaches the towering woman. "Looks like you could use an extra pair of hands." he nods at the gathered folk, "I'd like to offer mine."

The table of elders playing cards near the fireplace look up as Castiel approaches, then laugh in a friendly way. "Hold your haybales, that's sure a lot of questions, lad!"

"Eh, be nice to him, Al!" the old woman at the table chides. "At least he's a pretty sight to look at!" Then she turns to Castiel. "I'm old Pegin, and these three geezers are Al, Garth and Hub. Now, set a while, and here, have a beer, and join us. You can tell us what boat you came off of, and your name, and about the lovely fall weather we're having. Then we'll say, yep, warm for Lamashan. Then you'll ask us 'bout our no good kids, and our angelic grandchildren, and then we can start sharing town gossip."

Al laughs. "Heh, why don't we just pretend the lad said all that, and answer his questions? What were your questions again, lad? Memory's not quite what it was..."

When you remind them, Hub insists that he saw some giant bugs in the middle of town, and the others talk about how he was drinking early...

"Giant bugs!" Garth snorts. "Next time it'll be pink elephants! Though about those kids... They ran like a pack. Always together they were. If one of them decided to run away or take a holiday, I'm bettin' they'd all go."

Zakhar approaches the towering woman. "Looks like you could use an extra pair of hands." he nods at the gathered folk, "I'd like to offer mine."

"That's a kind offer." Alcie looks Zahkar over. "You look sturdy enough. Any experience waiting tables or cooking in a kitchen?

Want to give me Perception, Knowledge Local or Sense Motive to figure out where to deliver platters of food? I'll also accept Bluff to act like you know what you're doing.

Wetbeard scans around the room, thinking better of going and talking with locals. Instead he as nonchalantly as possible, holds the sock in his hands, lets Wanda moves to his hand and sniff it, and lets her form guide his finger to follow a scent should she smell one.

Perception Scent: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (3) + 16 = 19

Looking from one person to the next, Castiel notices that each seem a bit “full of the spirits"…

Hmmm… wondrumm Ekor much accurate information Tha can get from anek Barel ulro Khrum da drinking…

Ummm… I hate to do this and continue to take you away from your conversation but did you say large bugs… And the kids... Did you notice the direction they ran off too if that is what you mean by "ran like a pack"?

Wanda’s nose eagerly sniffs, and then suddenly Wetbeard gets the emotion in his head of Here, here, here! as he passes by the stairwell going up.

★ --- ★ --- ★ --- ★

Meanwhile the elders laugh again with Castiel. “We didn’t see where they went, dear boy. We were only talking about how those kids were always together.”

Umm Ok A bit of frustration shows on Castiel’s face Thank you for your time …. It was “interesting” chatting with you… Castiel shakes each of the elders hands and turns to see what his companions are doing and if the Proprietor is finally free to answer some questions… He then notices Wetbeard heading toward the stairs…

Want to give me Perception, Knowledge Local or Sense Motive to figure out where to deliver platters of food? I'll also accept Bluff to act like you know what you're doing.

"I've been in my fair share of places like this. I will figure it out."

Zakhar takes a platter of food and looks around to find whose order it is.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Kragrak doesn't usually feel particularly at home in taverns, but this one seems quiet enough. He steels himself, takes a deep breath, and then approaches the group of elders playing cards.
Diplomacy: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18
"Can I join you for a hand of cards? He pauses, realizing that his unusual appearance may take these people off guard. "I know I look weird. Just born this way out in the desert. 'm still a regular person though. D'be happy to hear stories about your families." He smiles and shakes his head, "Kids are always getting themselves in trouble. Takes time for them to learn to see their elders' wisdom."

Oak Sprout beams at Kragrak like a proud parent, content that she can take a break from her self-imposed--and, in her opinion, underappreciated--quest to encourage him to socialize. With this temporary reprieve from responsibility, she decides to indulge her own curiosity and follow Wetbeard up the stairs. When she gets close, she whispers to Wetbeard and Wanda, "Hey, have you found any more sweaty socks up here? Why are you guys looking for dirty laundry anyway? I'm sure you can find plenty back at the Grand Lodge when we get back."

Wetbeard curiously follows Wanda's directions, giving the patrons small nods as he walks by.

With the proprietress' delightful imagery of how backed up she feels the tavern to be at the moment stuck in his head, Lord Braggett decides to search for more pleasant things to fill his mind with. He spots Castiel and Kragrak talking with some friendly looking people, and decides that he'd best stay out of the conversation for now. Hmm, If the people here are so cool on nobility, perhaps I should tone down my excellence for a while? He then notices several of his fellow Pathfinders messing around near the stairs Egads! What are they up to? Are they allowed to go up there? Frantically looking around to see if the proprietress has spotted them, he decides to make a distraction, and perhaps also warm some of the locals to the dashing knight. He jumps up onto a chair and starts belting out the first song that pops into his head.

♫ Master of the joust
Knocking out the foe
Ready with a longsword
And an cracking blow
Tells a rousing tale
Makes the women swoon
Everyone appreciates a mounted loon
Enough to make a dragon waver
Doesn't even need to think twice
He's charging look he's charging
Everyone, he must be really nice! ♫

Sung to Les Misérables: Master Of The House.

Perform (Sing): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

Zakhar helps with the serving, but keeps having trouble figuring out what table’s food goes where. Patrons have to tell him, “No, I ordered the soup! The sandwiches were that way!”

Alcie yells from the kitchen, “Don’t let them bully you! Tell them they get what they get today!” When Zakhar comes back for more food, she says, “I wish Morrie were here. He’s a far better cook than I. Not like him to leave without telling me.”

Kragak joins in with the card players just as Castiel takes his leave. “Oh, you are a bit odd looking,” Pegin says. “Did folks ever give you trouble over it?”

Still, Kragak’s talk about children respecting elders goes over very well at this table. “Yes, you’re right. It seems like the young never think that we too once had adventures, and learned things!” Hub complains. “Still, Morrie seems like a good egg. Miss having him here though. Good cook, and kept the place running, he did. Did you ever see him? Huge, strapping lad. Larger than Alcie there, and he’s still growing!”

Then following Wanda’s directions, Wetbeard, Sprout and Castiel go up the stairs in search of dirty laundry. Fortunately for them, Zakhar’s help meant that Alcie went back to the kitchen. This, combined with Lord Braggett’s rousing song of ‘Master of the Joust’ means that no one is paying attention as all three go up the stairs.

The whole tavern, delighted with Braggestt’s song, joins in on the choruses with much stompling of feet and clinking of mugs!

♫ Master of the joust
Knocking out the foe
Hear the hoofbeats
As he lays them low! ♫

The group going upstairs discovers there are a few nice rooms for paying guests, and then a pair of rooms at the back. Wanda takes you straight to one of these, a closed door. It isn’t locked. Do you three go in?

Not wanting to just barge in and surprise anyone who may be in the room, Castiel leans close to the door and listens for any sounds. Not hearing anything he turns around to plan the next move but instead finds himself eye to “eye” with the ball of flesh named Wanda. Taken back a bit and a little repulsed he steps back.

Oh yir E gruesome site, yir E foul creature…. Nar it lives on da orc…. Yir would my pappy say…

The door pops open. No one is inside. It’s actually fairly neat for a teen’s room. Hanging in the closet are very large work clothes, clean and often mended. Along the walls are tons of drawings of what appear to be a group of friends, because the same people appear over and over, in different poses and locations. There’s a picture of what can only be Morvinarr, with freckles, big muscles and wild hair, carrying a pair of girls, one on each shoulder, and grinning. There’s a girl reading beneath an apple tree, while a dark bird looks down on her from a branch. There are lots of pictures of a handsome dark haired boy in a lab coat. Most of the kids look about sixteen, but one boy and girl appear slightly younger — about fourteen, maybe — laughing as they hold up herbs. Each of the pictures is signed with the initials, ‘N.T.’

Wanda immediately snuffles under the bed and pulls out a note.

Morvinarr, I know you're worried, but please keep this matter between us for now. Meet me at the usual place at midnight and I'll take you to the others.

THIS NOTE IS REPRINTED ON SLIDE SIX

Looking over the pictures, Castiel wonders which one is Gelly… Should Zal asked Yoth E picture eron Gelly from da ladty!!!
"Wetbeard…. This must be Morvinarr’s room… Can your “pet” track the lads scent to this so called “usual place”?"

Prince remains outside, telling Princess: "I shall not take you into such a place, and, last time I entered, you disappeared!".

Prince remains outside the door, and looks around, to try and see if anybody was following them, someone they at the gates, or lurking around Town Hall and such.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Wetbeard is dubious that Wanda could track the scent from here. The tavern is a very public place with hundreds of scents and tons of foot traffic. Only the lesser-traversed stairs still had the scent of Gelly.

Do those of you upstairs come back down?

You can't actually see Lord Braggett's head swell as his performance goes down a storm, but if you could, it would probably rival the size of most goblins right now. Ha ha! I knew I'd win them over, and I wasn't even trying that time... Time to knock their socks off! With the first song finished, he quickly launches into another, and then another, getting carried away while his fellow Pathfinders do all the work. Kibble on the other hand, just sighs and flops down in front of the fireplace, knowing he is likely to be here a while.

Perform (Sing): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
____
I was expecting him to be awful at singing... Turns out if you put him in front of a crowd, he'll rise to the occasion. Anyhoo, Braggett will keep on singing to keep people distracted for a bit so that the others will hopefully have no trouble returning down stairs when they are ready.

With a frustrated look on his face Castiel continues to search the room for any other clues on the whereabouts of the children
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8