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In Search of Heroes (Inactive)

Game Master verdigris

Play-by-Post game set in Darkmoon Vale, using the Pathfinder ruleset.


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Human Oracle 5 / Witch 1 | init +3, per +1 | AC 16/13/13 | HP 19/37 | Fort +1, Reflex +4, Will +11 | CMB +4, CMD 17

Simon struggles to keep his knees from shaking, even as a grown man he's afraid of graveyards at night. "Don't get too far away, ok guys?"

knowledge nature (15): 1d20 ⇒ 13

knowledge nature (20): 1d20 ⇒ 9

knowledge religion: 1d20 ⇒ 6

Fear, and darkness, affecting his senses, Simon is aware of nothing other than his shaking knees.


|| Per +15 | Fort +9 Ref +9 Will +6 | BAB +5 | CMB +7 | CMD 20 || Half-Elf (Humanoid Elf/Human) Paladin of Erastil/Ranger 3/2

"It'll be fine Simon. It's interesting, I see plenty of game trails through the trees and this area is much lusher than I would expect. I wonder if the bodies are properly interred?"

Not sure my coords yet, in the rear of the group and closer to the trees if possible.


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Kast will be harmless/hiding in B9. Get it? Harmless in B9? Benign? Get it!?

Take 20 to hide carefully in the branches there.

20+0= 20 stealth

Kast wraps his arm around his longspear and waits quietly.

This could take a while. But we soldiers are used to waiting.


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

C4 seems like a fine place to start I guess.

Othoe looks around carefully and checks out the grave in front of him in particular.

"Can someone provide a light source? It's getting a bit dark - unless we're in hiding that is."

I'm much better with people than all this nature. I hope the others are strong here.


M Human (Cheliaxian) Fighter (Cad) 3 /Rogue 3

Knowledge (nature) 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (11) - 2 = 9

Knowledge (religion) 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (18) - 2 = 16

Chrystosm, standing in a relaxed position in D9 with his sword and buckler at the ready, grins. "At least they won't have to drag us far if we do snuff it here. I just hope they give me a patch with plenty of sun. I've still got my lantern if you want it, Othoe, but I think we're keeping quiet for the time being"


Dorial walks cautiously around the cemetery looking for the best hiding spot.

Perception to find hidden areas: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

Survival to determine best spot: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

If no best spot is found then she settles down at A6

To no one in particular, "How long were we planning on waiting?"

Stealth check (which is poor):1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10


Simon, the trees rustle behind you, an accompanying breeze brushing over your cheek as something, or someone slips behind you. Nimeon tries to reassure you, pointing out game trails and wild looking foliage through the enveloping night.

Othoe:
Once your eyes acclimate to the darkness, you are able to better make out the stone in front of you. Though it leans a little with the passing of time, it stands strong. The ground below is settled and firm, having long since made peace with the funereal intrusion upon it. A small spray of pale wildflowers bow their heads and a large fern grows by the headstone, the fronds whispering in the light breeze that has picked up.

Chrystosm:
the others lag behind, save for Dorial who wanders a bit more. Bumping into a gravestone, it shifts, canting sideways from the blow, but otherwise the place is as quiet as one would hope it would be, save for the noises of the people behind you.

Kast Phaer:
B9? Saying prayers already? Hidden quite well, it is a lucky thing that neither Dorial nor Nimeon trip over you. Perhaps they take you for a gravestone? But there is little to see with little light to see it with. The graves stones in front of you stand as silent sentinels, save for the one that Chrystosm bumps into.


Human Oracle 5 / Witch 1 | init +3, per +1 | AC 16/13/13 | HP 19/37 | Fort +1, Reflex +4, Will +11 | CMB +4, CMD 17

Simon tries to voice his fears, but only gibberish escapes his mouth. (unless you speak Celestial)

Celestial:
"I think I just soiled my britches!"


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Kast resists the urge to answer Simon, somewhat out of common courtesy to avoid embarrassing his friend, but also to remain hidden.

Okay...remember your training. First cast light. Then stab the bad guys. Gnolls probably...


|| Per +15 | Fort +9 Ref +9 Will +6 | BAB +5 | CMB +7 | CMD 20 || Half-Elf (Humanoid Elf/Human) Paladin of Erastil/Ranger 3/2

Nimeon waits, uneasy in the cemetery but comfortable being outside at night, trusting his elven eyes to see by any light available.

Stealth: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

Othoe shrugs at the increasing darkness.

Before too long I won't be able to see my hand in front of my face let alone some body snatchers!

He tries to make himself comfortable behind the tombstone and sits quietly.

Stealth (taking 10) 10+5=15


Except for the breeze and a few rustles in the underbrush, there is nothing until the moon is high, and something stirs in the shadows beyond its reach:

"What do you hear?
Do you know?
or do you fear
what does not show?"

The voice is light and lyrical, though...off...somehow.

perception checks now? Either to see whatever is singing, or detect whether or not Simon has in fact soiled himself


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

What? Was that Simon again? No, it was coming from somewhere else...

Perception check 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

Othoe looks around to try and determine the source of the speech - and to check to see where his allies are.


Othoe, you aren't certain just where it came from. At first you thought one side of the clearing, by the big tree, but perhaps it was from behind that gravestone on the other side. However, you are able to find Simon (he's the one blubbering 10ft away), Dorial seems to be hiding in the trees not too far from him, Chrystosm is lounging on a gravestone near the center of the cemetary, and Nimeon has yet to fully to commit to coming out the trees.

Kast, however, seems to be missing.


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Kast stiffens as he listens.

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0 Perception

Sorry, prepping for travel tomorrow.


No sorry, you had the highest stealth check; he couldn't see you. And apparently, you can't see anyone either.

Kast, the voice could be anywhere as far as you can tell. in fact, at one point, it seems like it comes from right above you. or not.


Human Oracle 5 / Witch 1 | init +3, per +1 | AC 16/13/13 | HP 19/37 | Fort +1, Reflex +4, Will +11 | CMB +4, CMD 17

Oh, that's some creepy singing, nothing uncreepy sings in a graveyard at night!

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19


Simon, while you can definitely hear the singing, it does you no good as far as pinpointing where it is coming from.

At one point, you think there might be...music... that accompanies it, though the exact sort of instrument is beyond you.

Tis not your place
this holy glen
Tis not a space
For living men


That doesn't sound human! Where is it coming from?

Perception to locate creepy singing:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13


M Human (Cheliaxian) Fighter (Cad) 3 /Rogue 3

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 10

Chrystosm, who at this point has been idly picking his teeth with a dagger-point, looks up upon hearing the singing.

Nothing like a bit of music on a summer evening

He draws his rapier again, standing upright and calling out:

"Do you do requests?"


Dorial, it's hard to tell. At one point, the music seems to come from the trees around you, then fade off again.

"Tell me Tell me
Oh tell me true
Why you’re here,
What do you do?"


Chrystosm wrote:

Perception 1d20

Chrystosm, who at this point has been idly picking his teeth with a dagger-point, looks up upon hearing the singing.

Nothing like a bit of music on a summer evening

He draws his rapier again, standing upright and calling out:

"Do you do requests?"

you are also unable to find the voice, but "it" seems to see you and your rapier quite clearly,

"A challenge yes?
From you to me?
Oh Shall we dance?
Oh shall we see?"

Though the voice fades, the violin-like music picks up pace, a lively dance tune spreading out to encourage everyone that hears it to dance.
Will saves (DC 12) to ignore, or be compelled to dance or shuffle your feet to the music, effectively staggered.

initiative rolls:
Chrystosm: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
Dorial: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Kast: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (16) + 0 = 16
Nimeon: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Othoe: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Simon: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Voice of Dancing Doom: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 4 + 2 = 16

and new perception checks can be made.


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Round 1, Init 16

"Uhm, what? I don't dance...my knee..."

1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13 Will save

Laden with years of childhood trauma of never wanting to dance because of his deformity, Kast resists the urge to dance. At little bit of Kast dies inside...again.

Dancing is stupid anyway.

"Who's there?"

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2 Perception

Kast casts light on his longspear.


Human Oracle 5 / Witch 1 | init +3, per +1 | AC 16/13/13 | HP 19/37 | Fort +1, Reflex +4, Will +11 | CMB +4, CMD 17

Will Save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Try as he might, Simon can't help himself as his feet start to shuffle, then his knees start bending, but not from fear, rather they flex with rhythm in time to the song. His arms swing as his shoulders dip, his hips gyrating in sync with the haunting melody. Though he'll never admit it later, it's the best the bachelor has ever danced in his life.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Amazed at his new found rhythm, Simon is oblivious to all else as he watches himself dance.


Will save:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Perception:1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

Initiative 15

Dorial looks again for the voice but suddenly has a desire to start dancing. She moves her body in a fluid motion, swaying with the wind and trees.

I haven't taken the time to dance like this in such a long time. I should do it more often!


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

I do enjoy a good jig now and then to clear the little gray cells.

Othoe begins to do a little jig over the grave and then stops himself, realizes what he's doing and shudders...

Will save 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14 vs DC 12.

...he carefully steps OFF the grave and looks around in the near darkness.

Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18


|| Per +15 | Fort +9 Ref +9 Will +6 | BAB +5 | CMB +7 | CMD 20 || Half-Elf (Humanoid Elf/Human) Paladin of Erastil/Ranger 3/2

Nimeon casts his gaze into the shadows as the singing starts.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

As the dancing begins he does his best to resist.

Will DC 14: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

The jig begins to take hold, and as his feet move of their own accord, Nimeon calls out to the darkness.

"We mean you no harm, please show yourself."


M Human (Cheliaxian) Fighter (Cad) 3 /Rogue 3

Will save 1d20 ⇒ 5

Chrystosm starts performing a lively Cheliaxian tarantella.

Ha ha! Ah, wait... WHAT?! I don't want to be doing... Do I? I don't know...

He continues capering about, a slightly worried expression on his face.


perception 24:
the music continues, not from the shadows around you, but the sky above. Barely discernible against the starlit night, a tiny cricket-centaurish creature flitters about while seemingly playing the dancing tune on nothing but its hind legs.

The enchanting music continues, a voice weaving it's way through it in answer to Nimeon's assertions.

If no harm you mean
Just as you say
Then prove it true
Put the blade away!


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Kast leans on his longspear, trying to take the weight off his leg. The lighted point blazes light above his head.

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7 Perception

"We don't mean you any harm. And please don't make me dance," Kast tries a less defensive posture.

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22 Diplomacy

I'm surrounded by gravedancers. I wonder if this is how Pharasma wants it.


M Human (Cheliaxian) Fighter (Cad) 3 /Rogue 3

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 8

"Have you ever tried sheathing a blade while dancing?" , cries Chrystosm. "I'll probably skewer somebody if I throw it away, too!"

He makes the attempt anyway Do I need to make any sort of save to avoid self-inflicted injury?


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

Perception check 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24 vs DC 24

I SEE you!

"I have no weapon out, and we mean you no harm. Come forth, please, and show yourself that we may talk face to face in a calm and mature manner."

While Othoe does see he pretends not to and continues to look around.

"We are simply here to gather some information about the illness plaguing the nearby town. That is our only purpose in being here. Please, help us in that endeavor."

What a fascinating sight! I've not seen anything like that before.


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

"Really, you can trust me."

Diplomacy 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

I think my talking needs work. I should practice more and improve.


Chrystosm wrote:

Perception 1d20

"Have you ever tried sheathing a blade while dancing?" , cries Chrystosm. "I'll probably skewer somebody if I throw it away, too!"

He makes the attempt anyway Do I need to make any sort of save to avoid self-inflicted injury?

No, you're good for dropping the weapon in the square next to you.


Kast Phaer wrote:
"We don't mean you any harm. And please don't make me dance,"

The music mellows, the song seeming to move,

"Of you and you and perhaps you too
Your words ring clear and mostly true
So come, you sit, don’t walk away
We’ll sit, we’ll talk ‘til break o’ day"

lighting on the tallest gravestone in the closest row, a tiny cricket-centaurish creature finally stops her singing, the lovely soprano drifting to a stop.

"Now, what business do the living have in this haven for the dead?"

we'll drop out of initiative since no one wanted to take on the crazy cricket-centaur creature


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Kast tries to maintain his sense of calm and non-threateningness as he relaxes on his longspear and watches the others dance on graves.

"Greetings, I am Kast Phaer. Hail and well met." Kast begins to move towards offering the cricket creature a Lastwall fistbump, but immediately realizes that the gesture might be the wrong one to give.

"These are my friends, Simon..." Kast points to Simon as Simon dances in his soiled britches. "...and Othoe, Dorial, Chrystosm, and Nimeon."

Kast scratches his head.

"How long will the be dancing?" Kast politely inquires.


oops, the impulse to dance fades with the music

She raises one faint silvery brow in the mooonlight, "My pardon. That should stop soon since I've laid my song to rest for the moment."Her voice lilts at little at the mention of the song, and one leg brushes another, letting out a single pure high "C" for a moment before it fades away.

Her nose wrinkles at the introductions, and she hops to a spot further away from Simon before continuing."A pleasure, I'm sure. Excuse me if I don't curtsy. How can I help you and your friends?"


Human Oracle 5 / Witch 1 | init +3, per +1 | AC 16/13/13 | HP 19/37 | Fort +1, Reflex +4, Will +11 | CMB +4, CMD 17

Reluctant to stop and fearing he'll never dance so well again, Simon feels the rhythm fade from his steps as his movements slow, then halt. His attention captured by the cricket centaur, Simon gapes open mouthed but silent, waiting for his pulse to settle and the gift of speech to return. The wet slick of his breeches sticking to his leg doesn't help the matter.

As the beautiful little creature wrinkles it's nose and hops away, Simon feels the flush of shame at his obvious cowardice. His gaze drops downward as his throat constricts, the old, familiar pain of disappointment flooding through him. His sight falls on the grave at his feet and his fresh footprints, quickly he scampers from the disturbed soil, wondering if the evening would get any worse.

Gods, what have I done! Soiled myself again and disturbed a grave. Will I forever be like the lion from that children's story?"


|| Per +15 | Fort +9 Ref +9 Will +6 | BAB +5 | CMB +7 | CMD 20 || Half-Elf (Humanoid Elf/Human) Paladin of Erastil/Ranger 3/2

"Don't worry Simon, there are worse reactions, you'll learn to accept such things."

Worse things out there too.

Nimeon bows to the lady of the forest.

"Greetings lady. We come to this place of death looking for answers. A terrible plague has beset the people of Falcon's Hollow and we've taken the task of finding out where it comes from and how to stop it. Know you anything of this?"


M Human (Cheliaxian) Fighter (Cad) 3 /Rogue 3

Chrystosm, after picking up and sheathing his sword, gives his aching calves a quick rub.

"Ouch. You're quite the fiddler, aren't you?", he says to the creature with a grin.


Chrystosm wrote:

Chrystosm, after picking up and sheathing his sword, gives his aching calves a quick rub.

"Ouch. You're quite the fiddler, aren't you?", he says to the creature with a grin.

"A fiddler? oh yes, indeed! But when visitors come to Dance beneath the light of the moon, we dare not disappoint. It is part of the contract, after all."

Nimeon wrote:
"Greetings lady. We come to this place of death looking for answers. A terrible plague has beset the people of Falcon's Hollow and we've taken the task of finding out where it comes from and how to stop it. Know you anything of this?"

"A plague, is it? I had wondered why we've had so many recent immigrants, yes I had." Stalking up and down the edge of the stone, her wings twitching and stretching behind her. "Oh, this isn't good, not good at all. Our world grows thin with so many new additions, and if it is a plague, there can only be more intrusions, more additions."

"This won't do, no not at all." With a flit of her wings, she's airborne, clearly agitated. After a moment, she lands once more." Fix it. The intrusions must return to their natural level. The truce is precarious enough as it is."


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))
GM_Verdigris wrote:

"... This won't do, no not at all." With a flit of her wings, she's airborne, clearly agitated. After a moment, she lands once more." Fix it. The intrusions must return to their natural level. The truce is precarious enough as it is."

Othoe tries to follow her speech and makes some wild conjectures as to her meaning.

"We do plan to fix it if at all possible. It sounds like you have no knowledge of this plague, but perhaps you can help in other ways... With whom do you have a truce?"

It sounds very much like they are allowed to take a few townspeople from time to time into their 'keeping' to keep some peace or other. So who is the real power in Falcon's Hollow?


M Human (Cheliaxian) Fighter (Cad) 3 /Rogue 3

Immigrants? Additions?

"And could you explain what you mean by immigrants, friend?"


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

As the cricket-creature speaks, Kast tries to discern the creature's background and lore, if he can recall any from his previous life as a scholar.

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14 Know (Arcana, History, Nature, Religion, all +7)

GM_Verdigris wrote:
"It is part of the contract, after all."

Contract?! What contract?

GM_Verdigris wrote:

"A plague, is it? I had wondered why we've had so many recent immigrants, yes I had."

" Fix it. The intrusions must return to their natural level. The truce is precarious enough as it is."

Truce? Immigrants? So much mystery!

1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16 Know (Arcana, History, Nature, Religion, all +7) - what is this thing talking about?

Kast waits for a break in the discussion for a chance to speak.

"Excuse me, did we get your name?" Kast again resists the urge to Lastwall fistbump and instead just makes two fists of his own and bumps them.

"You mentioned a truce, a contract, and immigrants? What do you mean by that?"


"A truce, *the truce*, between the we and the thee, the nurturers and the harvesters, the green and the gore... between us, and you, so to speak."

At the request for a name, she leaps, flits and lands, as graceful a curtsy as anything with her legs and knees could possibly execute.

"Twigzystril Zap Caprice, if you please," she announces, as if that should be self evident.

"but please... so many questions, and so little time, the moon slips into the branches even now. Immigrants for us, Cast-offs for you, life-less husks and yet, they give life still, in their own way." With one hand, she motions to the field about her, and then the trees and vines that encircle the place.

"But balance is key, so key! Too many and our world will fall. No, your plague does not have its origins here. Plague, disease, rot, they have their place, but it is not here. That is our vow, upon the contract. The dead sleep their sleep and dream their dreams and feed the trees, all that remain. If the balance shifts, though, it will be for ill, and plague will not be all that haunts you."

Kast:
Knowl: Nature - When she finally lands once more, you recognize her as a grig, a fey creature of temperate forests, though you don't remember anything about them being particularly drawn to graveyards. A snippet from one of your texts comes readily to mind, now as the little thing flies about, "In combat, grigs maintain their distance and either depend on their spell-like abilities or fire their longbows from afar. Grigs use their movement to their advantage, frequently jumping about their enemies or flying beyond their reach."


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

Ahhh! They use the dead in some way to maintain the balance of nature in the area. Very interesting.

"Twigzystril, we shall do our part to end the plague. Interesting that you say it is not from here - do you know where it is from by chance? Anything you can do to help us is greatly appreciated."

Hrm.

"To maintain the balance should we bury the plague ridden dead somewhere else? Would that be helpful?"


|| Per +15 | Fort +9 Ref +9 Will +6 | BAB +5 | CMB +7 | CMD 20 || Half-Elf (Humanoid Elf/Human) Paladin of Erastil/Ranger 3/2

One of the fey, she must be speaking of souls. They have left this place and await Pharasma's judgement.

"It sounds as if this place is held in trust, Othoe, and Twig does not allow the plague to flourish here. We must look elsewhere for our villains."


Male Halfing (Chelaxian) (HP: 30/32, AC: 12 (f11/t12))

"Er, Simon, steady on man, get a hold of yourself."

Othoe casts Prestidigitation and cleans poor Simon up a little bit to make him more presentable to our guest.

"Can I get you anything? Are you OK?"


Male Human (Varisian) Scholar 2; AC 14, Touch 9, Flat 14 (-1 dex); HP 21/21; Init -1.

Kast nods as the creature speaks, trying to place the information into his memory for future use.

"How long has this truce been in effect? Was it negotiated between man and your kind? Or is it something older or different?"

This is interesting, but probably not something for a soldier to be involved in.


Human Oracle 5 / Witch 1 | init +3, per +1 | AC 16/13/13 | HP 19/37 | Fort +1, Reflex +4, Will +11 | CMB +4, CMD 17

Simon breathes easy once again as Othoe shows him the kindness of cleanliness. His voice returns along with his calmer emotions.

"Thanks, my friend, I've often shamed myself in moments of fear and it seems I've done so again. My apologies." Simon stretches both hands, one towards Othoe and one to Nimeon, offering Lastwall fistbumps for his companion's understanding and support.

"Dorial, what do you make of this relationship of nature between the graveyard and the fey. Does Twigsyztril speak of things that you may understand with your skills?"

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