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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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Sarek wrote:
As the barkeep finishes with another patron, I turn to the smiling man at the bar, the barman called him Simon: Sorry, if I'm butting in, do you know Falcon's Hollow well?"

@Sarek:

Kast turns to the dwarf seeking a seat at the bar. Knowing how friendly this town is, Kast will move his stool to make room.

"Come on up. Have a seat. My name is Kast, by the way." Kast extends his fist in anticipation of a Lastwall fistbump.

"You know Simon, already? What is your name? And, oh yeah, the stew here is pretty good." Kast offers helpfully.


"Yes... Research on the local timber market and the original regional rustic mansion style. Yes I have heard rumors about these ruins as well. I would like to find out more about them, there may be more commercial opportunities there... I sense you may be all about honest commercial opportunities... May Abadar guide use in our arduous efforts and bless us in building a better tomorrow."
Elandor begins to daydream about an illustrious future... Eli's next chord brings him back to the sad reality of his surroundings... Baby steps
"Yong lady, young lady! I will settle my tab. Could you pleas point me out to a place where I may find proper accommodation? I believe these gentlemen may be looking as well."


Chrystosm composes his features into a bland mask.

"Honest commercial opportunities. Oh yes. That's me alright"


Lamtheer wrote:

If necessary, Lamtheer will follow this Othoe without being seen and spy upon his conversation with Dorial.

Stealth to follow the halfling unseen (with penalty for moving at normal speed): 1d20+7-5=8
Perception to eavesdrop on the private conversation: 1d20+10=12

Othoe moves through the town.

Othoe is lost in his thoughts, so he's not looking for anyone following him... He is oblivious.


I have to apologize to everyone. I clearly didn't expect this large a turn out, nor the high quality of role play by so many. I think I have to shorten the recruitment. Let's do another couple of days, and then I will finalize a group on Tuesday evening. Thank for you all for passionate responses and fantastic applications. There have been many great characters and wish I could take them all. I haven't made up my final list yet, but I hope to narrow it down by Tuesday.


"Pleased to meet you, Sir Dwarf, join us for a mug of ale." Simon makes room at the bar for the dwarf. "I know Falcon's Hollow well as any man I suppose, born and raised here I was, and I'll not leave it for any bad times." Simon raises his mug in toast to the newcomer.

In response to Kast's inquiry about the greenhouse, but addressed to both man and dwarf, "Herbalist by trade I am, I've a little greenhouse and workshop that adjoins my small home not far from here. I grow most of what I need, but some things I still gather from the countryside or trade for in the market."


Dorial hurries out of the Inn as she lets out a sigh of relief.

I thought I would NEVER get out of there.

She closes her eyes and gazes up at the stars, a smile set upon her face. After a moment she shakes herself back down to earth and sets a firm face.

Now then, let's see what's actually going on here.

Dorial doesn't travel far before she sees some movement coming from some nearby stables. As she approaches, she notices a little pink piglet running around. She smiles as she pulls a piece of bread out of her pocket and kneels down in the stall.

Cast Speak with Animals

"Hi there little one. Would you like some food?"

The piglet runs over and takes the bread out of Dorial's hand. She looks around the large stall, but seeing no other pigs she frowns and turns her attention back to the piglet. "You're such a lucky pig to have such a large stall to yourself."

The piglet interrupts, "Bacon."

"Excuse me?" questions Dorial.

"Two-foots call me bacon. Took mamma away when she stopped moving."

Dorial frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know why mamma stopped moving?"

"Bad milk."

Puzzlement falls over Dorial's face, "I don't understand."

The pig tilts it's head at Dorial, "oink"

Well bugger. That didn't last long at all. Perhaps I should go find something that may have more information.

Dorial brushes her skirt off as she stands up, looking back on the Inn as some unfamiliar faces enter and leave. After gaining her bearings, she heads deeper into town.


Elandor Nark wrote:
"Yong lady, young lady! I will settle my tab. Could you pleas point me out to a place where I may find proper accommodation? I believe these gentlemen may be looking as well."

"Sessir? I ahhh...," She looks to Brahm, but the old man appears busy with another customer. She comes closer, the better to keep her voice low. "I believe we're out of rooms just now, Sir." She takes one more look for her boss before continuing, her voice lower still, "You could check at Jak’a’Napes, though. Tis down the road aways, but they always have more rooms than we do." Especially now, since Miss Betie passed on.

Having passed that bit of knowledge, she excuses herself loudly, "No Sir, but if ye want, there'll be room in the stable with Eli and Beck an meself. Just ahh, see Brahm before closing time." with a curtsy, she continues her rounds, filling drinks and picking up plates.


Dorial: Bacon spends more than a few seconds oinking and prancing about before going back to rutting into the straw and mud.

The night grows late and most homes sit still and quiet beneath the withering moon. It is many minutes before a small gray rat peers out from the alley on your left.


Within The Sitting Duck, the night grows late and cool, the fire dying low. By ones and twos or more, the patrons seek places to sleep, some only as far as a corner nearby, some the floor above, and a few out the door.

Fleur gathers the dishes, murmuring low to encourage a mellowing among the remaining customers. Eli sings one last song while helping Brahm rearrange tables for those that would sleep in the public room.

"Oh A-ylsande, my lady fair
don't look at me that way
for in the field or on the sea
You have the last to say

I'm but a sad and lonely man
who dreams of house and home
but Captain Hawk has won your heart
so I have the world to roam...

In Andoran my love remains
To country does she cling
they call her Lady Liberty
and all her praises sing."

space can be had on the floor for a few coppers, for those that would rather stay.


"Brahm, I find myself in town as darkness falls. Normally I've set up a camp or bartered my stay with a farmer, but unless you've wood to be chopped or cows to lead home I doubt there's much I can do around here. Is there a private room open tonight, and a place I might bathe?"

The tall half-elf runs a hand through his gnarled hair and seems to notice the crusted salt crystals on his armor at arms and neck for the first time.


Ah, perfect!

Dorial approaches the rat slowly, pulling out the last of her bread.

Cast Speak with Animals

"Hello there little one. Would you like some food?"


Dorial: The rat scurries back for a moment then cautiously peeks out when you speak, "食品...是食品...請宰..."

whiskers translation:
food? yesfoodyesyesyes... yousehaznobroomhasfoodyes... pleaseyes...

crouching on his back legs he peers over his tiny paws, trembling with fear, but not fleeing, at least, not yet.


Dorial smiles and sets some of the bread on the ground in front of her then slowly backs away.

"It's ok, I won't hurt you."


Nimeon wrote:

"Brahm, I find myself in town as darkness falls. Normally I've set up a camp or bartered my stay with a farmer, but unless you've wood to be chopped or cows to lead home I doubt there's much I can do around here. Is there a private room open tonight, and a place I might bathe?"

The tall half-elf runs a hand through his gnarled hair and seems to notice the crusted salt crystals on his armor at arms and neck for the first time.

Looking up from moving the tables, Brahm takes in the look of your hair and your armor, his mouth twisting a little, "There's not much at this time o' the night," he pauses, thinking about it a bit, then continues, his voice pitched so as not to carry, "I tell you what, help me move tables, and you can sleep in the public room. For a 'favor to be named later', you can have the first bath at sunrise. Will that work for you?"


Dorial wrote:

Dorial smiles and sets some of the bread on the ground in front of her then slowly backs away.

"It's ok, I won't hurt you."

He doesn't ease much, but he does scoot forward just enough to grab the bread. In between nibbles, he chitters again, "沒有傷害沒有受傷 ...但她想要的東西什麼什麼什麼?吃吃吃吃"

whiskers translation:
nohurtnohurt...butwantsshedoes...whatwhatwhat? eatyesbutwhat?


Nimeon smiles at this kindness.

"You're a good man Brahm."

With an economy of motion Nimeon shucks his weapons and armor, piling them behind the bar out of the way and getting to work moving tables and stacking chairs.

"There are many strangers in town, and it seems this plague is most on their mind. I've been far afield lately hunting the gnolls for the militia, can you tell me aught of this pestilence?"

Diplomacy->Gather Information: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15


This little critter is persistent!

"Have you seen what is making these people and animals sick? If you don't know, could you ask around? I promise to bring you more food tomorrow, even some cheese if I can get some."


Trafalgar heads out into the cool night after paying for his ale. Maybe I can find better lodgings down the road for now. I should find Othoe, I need to let him know that we have to find somewhere else to stay, or at least the floor would be able to accommodate the both of us."

Search to find Othoe1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5


Elandor whispers: “Thank you young lady, hear is a copper for you and an extra one for Eli. I didn’t mean to cause him any trouble.”

Stepping out into the night Elandor feels exhilarated. Maybe its that darkleaf stuff... It was the thrill of the unknown, a new place, new faces, no constraints, just his ambitions and dreams… He wanders slowly over to Jak’a’Napes deep in thought. I wonder where that gnome and druid went. A local druid could come in handy to search for those ruins.

If Elandor had learned anything from his consorts from the Church of Abadar it was if that it never mattered what you knew, but who you knew. To get anywhere he needed to make a name for himself. Curing a plague would get you some street credit, but he had neglected the infirmary studies to study the arts. Too bad, that could have helped now.

This must be the place the young girl mentioned.

Elandor scruits the street one more time before pushing the door. An old habit from the Abadar watch.

Perception 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16


Elandor catches himself huming
"... they call her Lady Liberty
and all her praises sing..."

Knowledge History: untrained 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15


Nimeon wrote:

Nimeon smiles at this kindness.

"You're a good man Brahm."

With an economy of motion Nimeon shucks his weapons and armor, piling them behind the bar out of the way and getting to work moving tables and stacking chairs.

"There are many strangers in town, and it seems this plague is most on their mind. I've been far afield lately hunting the gnolls for the militia, can you tell me aught of this pestilence?"

[dice=Diplomacy->Gather Information]1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15

"There isn't much to tell, honestly," he says with a grimace, the largest of the tables proving heavy, even for two. "I expect that most of the strangers will be on their way soon enough, though. Rumor has it that Kreed's going to crack down on any sort of "shiftless" behavior, and start forcing people out to the logging camps that have nothing better to do."

The space as cleared as it's ever going to get, he dusts his hands off on his tunic, "Sleep well, Nimeon, and don't get caught up in the Thaldrin's round up. It seems more people are dying out in the camps than in town these days. He has to replace them somehow. Remember that favor, eh?" he reminds you with a grin, then heads out for the few hours of sleep he's likely to get before dawn.


Dorial wrote:

This little critter is persistent!

"Have you seen what is making these people and animals sick? If you don't know, could you ask around? I promise to bring you more food tomorrow, even some cheese if I can get some."

Whiskers tilts his head, trying to make sense of what you ask, "不錯不錯,會說,但說什麼?錯的人弱,然後他們的食物。"

translation:
"yesyes...willtell...buttell...what? wrongpeople...weak...thenfoodtheyare."

as much as he tries, what you ask seems to be beyond his comprehension, and then, after a moment, even what little communication there was is gone as well, the spell fading into nothing and the small grey rat fading into the darkness.


Trafalgar wrote:

Trafalgar heads out into the cool night after paying for his ale. Maybe I can find better lodgings down the road for now. I should find Othoe, I need to let him know that we have to find somewhere else to stay, or at least the floor would be able to accommodate the both of us."

Search to find Othoe1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Wander as you will, the gnome seems lost in the night at this point. There is still space in the corner, should you wish to give up and return to The Sitting Duck, though the door will be shut for the evening soon enough.


Elandor Nark wrote:

Elandor catches himself huming

"... they call her Lady Liberty
and all her praises sing..."

Knowledge History: untrained 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Finding Jak’a’Napes isn't that hard, even in the dark. Down the street, nearly all the way to Low Marke, it is one of the few buildings with any lamps lit at this time of night, though one other still shines brightly across the market clearing. A florid faced man of generous girth grins brightly, showing you in quickly.

"Ah now, welcome, welcome, but come in quickly, and don't let the bully boys hear you singing that! You'll be wanting a room, I take it?" happy to take your coin, he quickly shuts the door behind you.


Trafalgar heads back to the Sitting Duck, what other choice does he have. He hopes that Othoe is safe, and doesn't get into trouble. He would hate to lose such a new and interesting acquaintance.


Dorial tosses the rest of her food out for the little rat, thanks him then heads back to the wall where she planned to meat Orthoe.

Hmm, people become weak, then they become food. But for who? And what happen to the people that die to this plague. Could they be fed to the animals, which in turn are fed right back to the people?

Dorial stops in her tracks as a shiver runs down her back.

Nonsense! No one could stoop that low. However, I must keep it as an option.

When Dorial reaches the wall, she finds her hidden pile of goods untouched. She spends a few minutes throwing on her armor and sitting her shield properly on her back.

Now to wait for Orthoe and discuss what I have hopefully learned. Then to bed.


Elandor makes his way in and drops his bag to the floor. Why do shields have to be so damn heavy… well as long as its saves me…
Looks up "Thank you, yes, a room, provided your rates are reasonable; may Abadar be willing. Blessed Fleur sent me this way.”

”As you may have noticed, I am not from these friendly parts, to which bully boys are you referring too”


Jak startles when you mention his inadvertant slip, "Did I say that? Oh, I meant nothing by it, of course. There's some in town that aren't music fans is all. Fleur you say? Dear child, she is, yes she is. She should have her orphan's debt paid off soon enough too, with the way she works at Brahm's place."

The rates are, indeed, very reasonable, and the place very quiet. On the way up, the door to one room is tied closed with a black sash, but the proprietor steers you onward, to a room probably much nicer than you were expecting.

"Sleep well, but not too late. The flapjacks go quick in the morning, even now."


As the evening draws to a close, Simon finishes his ale and bids his new friends farewell, imparting one last bit of advice before his departure.

Kast and Sarek:

"Heed Brahm's words regarding Thaldrin Kreed, don't get caught in his round up or you'll be sent to the work camps. If anyone asks you, tell them you're working for me, Simon Shrewsbury, helping out in my greenhouse. I'll be here first thing in the morning, dropping off an elixir for Fleur, and I'll get you then, or you're welcome to cast your bedroll in the workshop or greenhouse if you've got no room here. Remember, beware Thaldrin's men."


"Thank you and may Abadar bless your establishment." Noticing the black sash, Elandor adds "and my condolences for your loss."
Elandor murmurs a silent prayer. May we serve our loved ones through death.


Quote:
"There isn't much to tell, honestly," he says with a grimace, the largest of the tables proving heavy, even for two. "I expect that most of the strangers will be on their way soon enough, though. Rumor has it that Kreed's going to crack down on any sort of "shiftless" behavior, and start forcing people out to the logging camps that have nothing better to do."

Chrystosm doesn't like the sound of that one little bit.

Logging? Logging?! You must be joking! Hells and triple hells! I need to work something out, and fast...

Since there's no room at the inn and his attempts to line his pockets earlier on had proved to be unsuccessful, the Cheliaxian has no option but to head out into the street and see what he can find in the way of free shelter, keeping his eyes peeled for any opportunities to make a few coppers at the same time...

Perception 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 Looks like a sleepless night for me, then...


After an evening at the bar with Kast and Simon, Sarek bids them goodnight: "Aye, Simon, I'll be right. I've taken a room here, if y' have need or wish o' my company." He shakes them both by the hand and retires to his room, tapping the bar as he passes Brahm: "A fine walnut ale y'do, a fine one."

In the bedroom, Sarek seals off any source of light and sits on his bed for a good half hour. soaking up the quiet-dark before going to sleep.


Elandor Nark:
Elandor Nark wrote:

"Thank you and may Abadar bless your establishment." Noticing the black sash, Elandor adds "and my condolences for your loss."

Elandor murmurs a silent prayer. May we serve our loved ones through death.

"What? Oh, yes. A terrible thing, that. Fine customer, kept a room here for years. But we all grow old, you know." Tracing the spiral over his heart, Jak hurries passed, his mouth twisting in sorrow, and perhaps something else.

Chrystosm:
The night grows cold before anything likely catches your eye. At one point, you do see the glow of the lantern headed your direction, but are just able to make out a bristling of weaponry before they reach you.

"A cold, he says. It'll pass." The man stifles a cough before he continues, "but he sent me to Laurel's all the same. It's not so bad now, but for awhile I felt the chill of the grave in every joint of me body. "

The other man takes an involuntary step away from his companion, though his voice holds steady when he speaks, [b]"Of course that's what he said. Kreed'll never admit there's something t'get in the way of a good days' work. Don't you remember his tirade at that new Iomedaen Cleric, 'They can worship while they work, the gods can hear them where er'e they are, can't they?'. But Laurel's tonic seems to have done you a fair bit of good, I admit."


Sarek:

"Thank you. It was a good year for the nuts, that one. Sleep well, Sarek." The room itself is small, and windowless, but fairly well built for the looks of the place. Little light and less sound make their way in naturally, and what does is easily foiled by clothing pressed along the door's edge.


"Dorial, is that you?"

Othoe sees very little in the darkness, but thinks he makes out Dorial's shape in the darkness by the wall.

I hope this isn't a trap...

"Ahh, there you are. So, what are your thoughts? How do you propose to slow or contain the plague?"

He pulls his cloak in a little tighter against the night breezes. Still, he enjoys the freshness to the air and the quiet in the sky.


Dorial smiles as Othoe starts speaking. "I'm glad you could make it Othoe. Unfortunately, the few sources that I have made contact with were.. less than stellar, however I do think I can piece some information together."

She shivers before she continues, "Before I reveal my thoughts, I think there is more investigating to be had." She ponders for a moment, "How are your diplomacy skills? I would like to see these victims of the plague, but I do not think that the town will have any to provide. If that is the case, then I fear my suspicions may be more than accurate... which is not settling in the least."

I hope he's better at diplomacy than he is at disguises.


Othoe shrugs, inwardly and outwardly...

I had hoped she'd have more. Ah well, a thread is still more than I have!

"I've received no formal training Dorial, but I've a friendly enough face, and the shorter races are looked upon kindly, if not completely ignored!" Othoe grins widely.

"I think I could get a few doors opened if needed. ...but I'm concerned, what do you fear? Why would there be no victims to question? I thought the town had a plague problem? Surely there must be some victims among the poor at least!"

Othoe isn't keen on the idea of interacting with actual victims. Isn't that how it's spread? Personal contact? Vapors?

Still, one must risk something to gain any reward.


Still hidden in the shadows, Lamtheer listens intently to the conversation between the halfling and the druid.


Can I trust him to tell him more? Even if I did, it's still only speculation.

"Perhaps we could discuss it more tomorrow after we look into a few things."

She looks in the direction of the Inn. "It appears that the Inn has closed up for the night. Do you have another place to sleep? If not, I believe I saw a few heading into Jak’a’Napes down the road there."


Dorial wrote:
"Perhaps we could discuss it more tomorrow after we look into a few things."

"Uh, sure. Tomorrow's fine."

Then why are we out here tonight? Maybe she's just skittish...

Dorial wrote:
She looks in the direction of the Inn. "It appears that the Inn has closed up for the night. Do you have another place to sleep? If not, I believe I saw a few heading into Jak’a’Napes down the road there."

Othoe looks back to the Inn.

"I might have a berth there waiting for me, I don't know. I was working with another gentleman to find a place. Hrm. It's a nice night though, maybe I'll save a bit and just camp here by the wall. I've slept rough quite a bit and am finding I prefer it to the hustle and bustle of an Inn. Fewer pick pockets too!"

Othoe grins and looks about for a soft patch to nest in.


The problem with us all going to sleep is of course there's less opportunity to role play, so if anybody wants to have a conversation with Nimeon earlier in the night let me know. ;)


Kast slurps down the last of his stew next to the silent Sarek, thinking about taking Simon up on his offer of hospitality.

A greenhouse would be much better than an outhouse or under a hedge.

Kast also wonders about the conflicting messages regarding Thaldred Kreen: on one hand, he's the guy who might be hiring a teacher, on the other hand, he's a guy not to be trusted.

Kast decides that rather than worry about all that to instead enjoy tonight and see what happens on the morrow.

Kast rubs his twisted left knee absentmindedly, as if he continually wished his knee was not so wounded and he could be elsewhere, doing other stuff, rather than here.

Finishing his stew, Kast spins in his stool so he can see the gamut of the Inn.

Maybe I'll try to make another friend in this very friendly town.


I wonder...

Knowledge (local, untrained) 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20 to suss out where Laurel lives.

Aha - I remember. Good, good... Still, who are those bardiche-brandishing invalids?

Perception 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19 to examine the two men more closely.


Dorial grins at the comment, "Sleeping outdoors is very refreshing. I was going to curl up with my new friend at the stable myself. If you like, we could meet back here in the morning or by the stables. I don't think I can go back inside that Inn again anytime soon."

Ah, but if we all sleep then we can fast forward to the next day and continue on!


Nimeon wrote:
"Greetings friend. My name is Nimeon, servant of Erastil, what brings you to Falcon's Hollow? I see you've met Simon. Did I hear you correctly, you are a teacher Kast?"

Kast startles as the half-elf speaks to him.

"What?!" Kast looks relieved as he realizes he just didn't see the man approaching. Gathering his wits, Kast replies, trying to be as nice as the overly nice people in this town.

"Yes, I...I am a teacher...now," Kast says with a bit of resignation.

I should be a soldier. Fighting against the orcs. Just like in my book.

"I didn't catch your name...sir?" Kast extends his fist for a Lastwall fist bump.


Chrystostosm:
Chrystosm wrote:

I wonder...

Knowledge (local, untrained) 1d20+2 to suss out where Laurel lives.

Aha - I remember. Good, good... Still, who are those bardiche-brandishing invalids?

Perception 1d20+1 to examine the two men more closely.

A better look shows quite a bit of their gear is colored the same, uniform-ish, though it fits poorly, as if it were originally made for someone else originally.


Nimeon extends his hand uncertainly.

Is he greeting me? Challenging me?

"Nimeon, my name is Nimeon. What were you before, that you are a teacher now?"


Status:
AC: 12 (f11/t12) CMD:11 HP: 7/7
Weapon Equipped = None
Conditions = None
Arcane Bond = Unused
Force Missile = 5/6
Wizard Spells Remaining:
0)(13) Detect Magic, Prestidigitation, Spark
1)(14) Infernal Healing, Magic Missile* w/ Topple

Dorial wrote:

Dorial grins at the comment, "Sleeping outdoors is very refreshing. I was going to curl up with my new friend at the stable myself. If you like, we could meet back here in the morning or by the stables. I don't think I can go back inside that Inn again anytime soon."

Ah, but if we all sleep then we can fast forward to the next day and continue on!

"Agreed." On both counts!

"We shall meet here then sometime after dawn?"

Othoe makes himself as comfortable as he can and curls up for the night in his warm robes using his wig as a pillow.

In the morning he builds a small fire (memorizing Spark today instead of Ray of Frost) and casts Force Missile on some poor rabbit or other small forest creature for breakfast. He will settle for a bird if he can't find a small mammal. He uses Prestidigitation to better spice up the meal.

As he finishes his meal, he again dons his Gnome disguise. again taking 10 for a total of 14 He uses the last moments of Prestidigitation to clean himself up after breakfast, paying special attention to his nails as always and with that he's ready for a new day!

One must always be presentable. No one expects a slave to look like a gentleman!


Kast holds his fist out, still waiting for a Lastwall fist bump.

1d20 ⇒ 8 Sense Motive

Kast looks at his fist, then to Nimeon, then to his fist, then back to Nimeon.

"Yeah...I'm a teacher." Kasts eyes go wistfully to his longspear by the front door as his left hand creeps down to make sure his shield is still handy.

"I tried to be a soldier, tried and failed. Now, I need to find work in this friendly, happy town. I bet it should be easy. What about you? Why are you here?"

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