Isle of Dread (Inactive)

Game Master Wilmannator

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Male NG Human Lorekeeper 4 | HP: 30/30 | AC: 13 (13 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: 0, CMD: 13 | F: +3, R: +5, W: +3 | Init: +9 | Perc: -2, SM: -2 | Speed 30ft | Hero: 3/3, Shift (10'): 8/8 | Extend: 2/3, Pearl: 2/2 | Active conditions: mage armor-8hrs
Bazsil Grimalkin wrote:
Gado Folklo wrote:
"I....who is trying to undermine the one thing that will take me away from sure death and torture at the hands of Mistress Lanvi."

Bazsil smiles at the little man.

"I thought I told you. You do not need to worry about your mistress when I am around. You just point her out to me and I will take care of her," Bazsil smiles creepily. "Many women cannot resist the charms of Bazsil, when I choose to use them. Maybe I will take your mistress as my lover, for you, Gado."

That is what every man thinks, and Lanvi knows it. It is why she is so powerful... She gives you the illusion of control and before you know it you are in her chains, and you realize you were played the whole time. She is seductive and alluring. And she uses your own ravenous desires to manipulate you. These six days can't pass quickly enough. We need to get out of here before I lead more people into her snares...

"No worries Grim! We will be leaving soon enough. I just need to stay away from her for a few more days, and I think I have enough studying to do to keep me safely occupied. Though I appreciate your fervor." Gado smiles. "Say, would you mind coming with me to visit the former first mate? Often times people say there is a fine line between genius and madness. I can appreciate this more than most, and so would like to see just how mad he really is. Maybe we could head up to the sanitarium tomorrow morning, once I have had a chance to rest and study."

The little man gathers his things and makes his way out as the group disperses, each to their own tasks to make ready for the long trip ahead.


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Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15
Gado Folklo wrote:
"Say, would you mind coming with me to visit the former first mate? Often times people say there is a fine line between genius and madness."

"Of course! I am a fine judge of madness and the ways of man. I would be an excellent aid to your understanding of the former first mate."

Bazsil joins Gado and others, I hope as well, in speaking with the mate.

If thoughts were words, Gado:

If you had said this, I would have responded thusly...but this never happened.

Gado Folklo wrote:
That is what every man thinks, and Lanvi knows it. It is why she is so powerful... She gives you the illusion of control and before you know it you are in her chains, and you realize you were played the whole time. She is seductive and alluring. And she uses your own ravenous desires to manipulate you.

Bazsil smiles as Gado explains, nodding along.

"Ah, yes! Of course! I have done the same to many women in my time," Bazsil says, confidently saying things that never were true. But he's sure he would if women found him desireable.

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3 Bluff

"But as for me falling under her spell, I assure you that is impossible." Bazsil says again, with equal fervor. This, however, is completely true, as falling under her power would entail that Bazsil love someone other than himself...which is, of course, impossible.


Female N Human (Kellish) Archeologist 4 | HP: 25/25 (9/9 temp) | AC: 16 (12 tch, 14 Fl) | CMB: +2, CMD: 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +4 | Init: +2 | Perc: +0, SM: +0 | Speed 30ft | Spells: Possibly || Active conditions: Mage Armor, False Life, Comp Languages

Aeslin is well within her environment researching what she can find on the Twilight Sages. She'll hit the regular spots, libraries, academies, even Sheila Heidmarch.

Grand Lodge

The Ambassador (Male NG Halfling Bard 3) | HP: 21/21 | AC: 18 (13 Tch, 16 Fl) | CMB: +1, CMD: 13 | F: +4, R: +7, W: +7 (+4 vs. bardic performance, language-dependent, and sonic, +2 vs. fear) | Init: +8 | Perc: +9,SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | Bardic Performance: 12/12 | Spells: clw, grease, hideous laughter (DC 15), sleep (DC 15) | Active conditions:

The halfling rests with his feet perched on a nearby table, his body reclined in his chair. Wrigley's fingers pluck at the strings of his lute, softly and carefully, while the instrument releases a fragile melody into the air. In his mind, he wonders about the sad fate of the strange and untamed woman, killed before his eyes. He wonders, if they could learn about her purpose, what she wanted, could he prescribe some meaning to her death.

His fingers strike a particularly discordant note, and he pauses to scribble an update on the sheet of music upon the table, then goes back to finish composing a new song. He already has a title in mind, The Red Lady.


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15

Bazsil wants to stretch his legs more, especially after getting worked up on the beach, but keeps his pace as a lazy strut as he slows himself so those less fit or less angry or less human can keep up with him on the way to see the first mate.


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Dwarf God of Pastry Magicks 4 | HP: 39/39 | AC: 17 (12 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +5, CMD: 17 | F: +8, R: +3, W: +7; (+4 spells/SLAs) (+2 poisons) | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +3 | Speed 20ft | Hero: 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4, 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

"Well, I guess we will see you later Wrigley!" Elon yells at the halfling as he departs before dinner.

Grrrrowl!

He waves to everyone else, sad that Gratum didn't want to get food. "You guys are missing out!" he yells to the lot of his compatriots, save Barley and Grim.

"Mooo!" echoes Barley. Elon takes that as agreement.

"My stomach's got a mind of its own this evening!" he comments to the Grim as they walk to the nearby noodle shop. "Hammocks are the best, though we should get one for Barley. He loves to swing in the salty breeze. Good for his skin. Maybe we should bang a quick chimney through the deck of the ship to the belowdeck in case of a fire emergency. Heard it's the best way to keep fire from spreading on a ship." Common dwarvish folk tale.

"Other than that, we should definitely check the ship out. Grab dibs on the best spots for hammocks! Think we will be able to drink rum and sing shanties? That's the best part about being a pirate, I think. Not really one for stealing or anything. Maybe we can be one of those singing pirate boats..."

Slurp...

Elon digs into the bowl of ramen slammed down in front of him with a nod from the tengu noodlemaster Shijo. He looks to his left and the Grim seems to have left him... Sad... He would have liked these noodles, I think.


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15
Bazsil Grimalkin wrote:
...on the way to see the first mate...

...after first lunch, of course. Bazsil would never put of eating when he could eat now. He was hungry after chasing baddies on the beach and had worked up a powerful appetite.

So, he happily slurps noodles with a dwarf and discusses hammock placement.


Dwarf God of Pastry Magicks 4 | HP: 39/39 | AC: 17 (12 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +5, CMD: 17 | F: +8, R: +3, W: +7; (+4 spells/SLAs) (+2 poisons) | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +3 | Speed 20ft | Hero: 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4, 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

"Haha! In the bathroom, I see!" Elon states elatedly at the return of the coiffed man. "Noodles are getting cold! Try dipping some rice in the broth. Best thing ever."

Elon flags down Shinjo. "Two more rice lagers for my friend and I, most honorable Shinjo, and can you boil a cabbage for Barley? He loves your cabbage if you remember." the dwarf says heartily with a wink as the tengu bows graciously.

"So, we are going to see the First Mate? Thought you left without me AND lunch!"

Slurp!

"What's your interest in 'im?" the dwarf says as Shinjo sets down two more pint glasses of lager for the men. "Seems boring to check on some loon, but I guess it'll pass time...."

Barley sticks his head through the nearby window at the smell of the freshly boiled cabbage and Shinjo wordlessly places the bowls of the vittles on the sill.


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

I'm going to leave the constraints of time and space for now... insert yourself into one or both of the below.

Those Researching the Twilight Sages...

After a long search through public records, libraries, private book collections and simple shaking down ruffians on the street, the team turns up nothing. There is absolutely no record, verbal or otherwise, that any of them are able to find on the Twilight Sages. However, the are armed with something that no-one else knows: they know what the Twilight Sages were interested in.

The crew tracks back through any places you might go to find out more about the Isle of Dread. They inquire at places that one might enquire when figuring out where a funeral is to be held, and where a body might be kept. They shop for the same scrolls the Red Lady used, and they ask the same questions that the Red Lady and her fellow cultists might have asked. Generally, they get information related to the questions they ask and little else. Finally, though, at a purveyor of magical items, they get a lead!

"Yeah, some woman with red hair was asking me the same question the other day. Told her I didn't have any scrolls of speak with dead, but she could have my last three charm monster scrolls if she liked. She seemed particularly interested to know if it would work on an ankheg. Told her it would... but I thought it was strange, so I had Sven here follow her," the scroll vendor indicates a wiry youth who is currently carving scrimshaw on a stool in the corner, "She went into a farm house north of Magnimar. Loads of farmers have trouble with Ankhegs, so we figure that's what she wanted it for. Maybe convince it to relocate."

For a very modest price, Sven is willing to lead the companions to the farm house...

... so, describe how you go there. In particular, things like stake-out, stealth in or guns blazing?

Those Speaking with the First Mate...

The journey northeast to the Saintly Haven of Respite, a sanitarium south of Sandpoint, is a pleasant one. It takes most of the day, but the previous night's storm has passed and left the ground soft and delightful to walk upon. The scent in the air is as of new new life springing forth from the earth itself. It is almost a shame that the walk is at an end when the massive wrought iron fence of the asylum's outer walls hove into view.

The grounds of the place are well tended, and vast. The building itself is relatively small, after the grandeur of the entrance gates. The stone walls are a mere two stories high, but there is a tower with a belfry that goes at least five stories high. The shingle roof is encrusted with barnacles, but the rest of the place seems clean and well kept.

A moderately attractive blonde woman in a nurse's smock greets the companions at the door to the Saintly Haven of Respite. She takes very little convincing to allow the crew members to see Jakob "Cabbage Ears" Amos. "He receives so few visitors, and it might do him some good. He hasn't spoken in over a week. After his initial... well, you know... ramblings, he pretty much quietened down. A week of silence is a bit much, though, even for him."

The meeting is arranged outdoors under the eaves of an old Varisian pine tree. Jakob is sitting there in a plain white gown, playing with a pine cone. HIs arms are scratched up, and from the way his nails are over-clipped, the best guess is that he has been scratching himself compulsively. The pine cone seems to be alleviating that urge for now. The man's skin is loose and sallow and his hair is graying at an unusual rate. Barbarosa said he had a thick, black mane, but very few black hairs remain. The companions note his thick, simultaneously puffed and shriveled ears that give him the nickname "Cabbage Ears", a sign of a man who never backed down from a fist fight. Even they are drooping a little.

When the companions approach, Jakob looks up. His eyes are old. They are dulled and somehow look like they've seen too much. From what Krinst and Barbarosa told them, however, the man cannot be a day over thirty. He regards the assembled crew members expectantly.

Question time!


Male LN Dwarf, King’s Engineer 4 | HP: 33/33| AC: 18 (13 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 16 | F: +3, R: +7, W: +2 | Init: +5 | Perc: +7, SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | wand of cure light 50/50; wand of enlarge person 50/50 [ooc]Active conditions: None.

"Be vewy qwiet...". Gratum whispers to Aeslin mostly, with a brief eye contact and nod to Ciaran. "I will hide below a window and see if I can hear anyone still inside. Find a good spot to hide and watch the road and door. If you see anyone -Anyone! Give me two crows and I'll get out. Ok?"


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15

Bazsil struts about the sanitarian as if he owns the place...it's as if he belongs there. That's just how he walks. With a jaunty confidence earned by years of thinking it to be true.

"Smart Little Man, I think that is him," Bazsil says to Amos. "Those are the ears of a fighter. I admire that. I would not be saddened to eventually earn the nickname 'The Grim Eared', but I am just 'The Grim' now."

Bazsil watches the man from nearby, seeing what he see of the man and his actions.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13 Perception
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13 Sense Motive


Male NG Human Lorekeeper 4 | HP: 30/30 | AC: 13 (13 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: 0, CMD: 13 | F: +3, R: +5, W: +3 | Init: +9 | Perc: -2, SM: -2 | Speed 30ft | Hero: 3/3, Shift (10'): 8/8 | Extend: 2/3, Pearl: 2/2 | Active conditions: mage armor-8hrs

In the investigation of the Twilight Sages...

Gado often laments how small he is. Just the day before he was complaining about it when Wrigley and Bazsil walked in to overhear him. He was immediately embarrased that the force of personality that is The Grim heard him whining, and ashamed that he would complain of such a thing when Wrigley was decidedly more challenged in that area.

This day however, Gado was not complaining. His thin and light frame made it easy to stay much quieter than some of his clumsy companions. Remaining in the back of the group, he uses some of his minor spells to aid the other's sneaky approach, and readies his silent and minor images to provide a distraction should someone inside get a hint of their presence.

This is fun... His grin betrays his thoughts as they duck and hide in the bushes approaching the farmhouse.

In the visit to the looney-bin

Almost Cyrus'd!!! Good thing for the preview button...

Gado nods along with Bazsil as they approach. At first he is confused why a person would want to have cabbage ears, but slowly connects the sentiment with being recognized as one who has done something well for a long time, and wears the badge of honor visibly to prove it.

"Yes. Makes me wonder how many fights he was in." he muses out loud with more than just passing curiosity. "How many do you think you would have to survive to earn such a badge?" Gado asks, curious about the dedication it would entail.

"I don't know if studying for long hours gets me the same kind of badge of honor. Feats of physical strength are easier to recognize." He says.

After a short time observing, Gado leads the approach to the man.

"Ah, Mister... ahh... Jakob. I am glad to finally meet you. My name is Gado. This here is Bazsil and Elon, and others." Gado speaks a little slowly, trying to be careful not to offend the man, or speak faster than his capability to understand. In the back of his mind he cringes a tiny bit, wondering if he succeeded.

The Smart Little Man looks around, verifying they are out of earshot of nosy residents or nurses. "Captain Barbarosa told us a little bit about you over a pint. Some people say you are mad. I'm not so sure I agree, or else the things I have seen and studied would qualify me as mad also. Can you please share your story with us?"

Try as he might to be gentle, Gado cannot help but give off the impression that he cares more about the possible information locked in the former first mate's head, and less about his well-being. Hopefully Jakob is too distracted to notice.


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Jakob "Cabbage Ears" Amos looks up at Grim, wild eyed but saying nothing. He simply nods at the introduction and then goes back to picking at his pine cone.

When gado speaks, the former first mate begins to pay attention. For a long, long time it appears as though he won't respond. Just as the companions are about to give up, he opens his mouth and croaks, "Bar... barbarosa? I think I remember a Bar-ba-rosa. From so, so long ago. A captain, you say? Yes... yes, I believe he was. He'll be dead now... won't he?

"My story... no story to tell. I was lost. So lost! Oh, the things..." he becomes frightened but more animated, "They wanted to kill me! But they could not! How can you kill that which is already dead? Or did I die? Did they succeed? Then sweet Iomedae... she saved me. It is strange, she was absent for so long... but when she appeared, it was as though she was born anew. What a life we had together. It seemed like almost a thousand years.... but then, then the pain the ripping... the agony! The put me here to dull the pain, yes... but the memories! THE MEMORIES! THEY BURN!"

Jakob drops the pine cone and starts furiously scratching at his arms. Concerned orderlies begin to pay attention to what is going on here, and one goes inside.

Keep prodding if you like... his dark fantasy can probably be guided somewhat...

Grand Lodge

The Ambassador (Male NG Halfling Bard 3) | HP: 21/21 | AC: 18 (13 Tch, 16 Fl) | CMB: +1, CMD: 13 | F: +4, R: +7, W: +7 (+4 vs. bardic performance, language-dependent, and sonic, +2 vs. fear) | Init: +8 | Perc: +9,SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | Bardic Performance: 12/12 | Spells: clw, grease, hideous laughter (DC 15), sleep (DC 15) | Active conditions:

while researching the Twilight Sages...

"Aye," the halfling whispers and nods in response to the dwarf.

Following the advice of Gratum, the halfling moves up to the edge of the street, staying behind objects where he can and in shadows where he can't. Upon his back, the exquisite lute and drums bump noiselessly together as he jostles and creeps along. Wrigley tilts his heads to look up and down the street, then turning to peer at the doorway, his eyes are ever watchful for anyone close at hand that is not his friends. Nearby the others are gathered, either watching for anyone in the vicinity, same as Wrigley, or trying to hear what is being said within the building.

If worse comes to worse, the halfling knows, he may have to step out into the open and keep random strangers occupied with his words if they try to approach to close.


Male NG Human Lorekeeper 4 | HP: 30/30 | AC: 13 (13 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: 0, CMD: 13 | F: +3, R: +5, W: +3 | Init: +9 | Perc: -2, SM: -2 | Speed 30ft | Hero: 3/3, Shift (10'): 8/8 | Extend: 2/3, Pearl: 2/2 | Active conditions: mage armor-8hrs

Scene switches from tense stake out with purposeful lack of dramatic music to wild screaming and panic with unintentional lack of dramatic music...

Gado leans back, whispering to the ones who came with him, "He thinks Barbarosa is dead... of old age? This is not a normal madness, this is something else." He says, thinking himself smart though that conclusion was obvious.

Gado pats his hands in the air trying to calm the man down. "Think about Iomedae! She saved you, yes! Surely that memory is not painful. Yes, tell me how she saved you! What did she save you from? And that wonderful life you had by her side, see there? That's better..."


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15

Bazsil stares at the crazed man, then turns his attention away from Gado and to the first mate.

As he listens to Gado speak the language of the crazed, his fingers Lucy and wonders if the mercy of the hammer might be better than his crazed existence.

"I think so. This is odd, indeed. Not sure what we could hope to get out of him," Bazsil says to Gado.

"Tell me of your Lady, Iomedae! Tell me how she saved you!"


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Very underwhelmed by the posting rate here guys. Please pick it up or let me know that you're temporarily swamped at work, or whatever. You've all got the discussion thread, PMs, my email & my cell number to get in touch if you need to. Gratum, you've got an excuse - only Wrigley has answered you so far!

Asylum...

Jakob's eyes glaze over and his mouth turns upwards in a pleasant smile, "Ah, Iomedae! I was lost for so long... and she saved me. I was being pursued by beasts, cannibals, maggots and gods! Swirling, swirling all the... swirling. But none could touch me! Then she inherited and... and she reached out her hand and pulled me from the swirling... and she saved me. I thought she wasn't coming, but she did. She did. And then these nitwits stole me away from her. Just like that!"

The former first mate suddenly becomes frightful as the glaze disappears from his eyes and he stares clearly at Bazsil and Gado as though for the first time. "Where am I? Who are you? Have you come to take me back?"

Cultists...

As the companions stake out the farm house, a hooded figure approaches the front door from the road. A slot opens in the door and two eyes peer out.

"The last of them..." comes the challenge from the doorway.

"...e...g...n" the reply is too soft to make out.

Gaining confidence, Gratum and Wrigley edge cautiously closer and closer, until they are hidden behind a bush near the side of the house, only a few yards from the front door. A little while later, another figure approaches - similarly cowled. This time, the pair hear the challenge response: "... shall never be again."

Next move is up to whoever is there!


Dwarf God of Pastry Magicks 4 | HP: 39/39 | AC: 17 (12 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +5, CMD: 17 | F: +8, R: +3, W: +7; (+4 spells/SLAs) (+2 poisons) | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +3 | Speed 20ft | Hero: 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4, 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

Elon looks worriedly at the two Gs. "Perhaps [ihe[/i] needs some good food..." he comments as he eyes the soupy mixture, half-eaten in a bowl near his bed.

Thinking of how to guide the conversation, Elon pipes up. "Who are the nitwits, Mr. Cabbage?" Elon asks, confused by his story. "Where would we take you?!"

Elon is proud that he thought of such good questions and elbows Grim in the side, beaming at him with his smile.


Female N Human (Kellish) Archeologist 4 | HP: 25/25 (9/9 temp) | AC: 16 (12 tch, 14 Fl) | CMB: +2, CMD: 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +4 | Init: +2 | Perc: +0, SM: +0 | Speed 30ft | Spells: Possibly || Active conditions: Mage Armor, False Life, Comp Languages

Are we able to do both the visit and the research

In the research realm -- Aeslin isn't very touchy-fealy, so doesn't got to the sanitarium
"Where is this farmhouse? No, wait..." she says, putting a hand gently onto Sven's shoulder. "I am not very good with directions." (this is true) "Maybe you should show me where it is. I am sure a clever man such as yourself could lead me there."

She turns to the scroll vendor... "I sure you don't mind, do you? Oh, when I am done checking out the farmstead, I'll be back. There are several scrolls that I need. You don't mind if I borrow Sven, do you?"

Never does the thought of actually paying the vendor, or Sven cross her mind. Daddy wouldn't pay for this, especially if he were going to buy a lot of product from the vendor... he'd assume it was all part of doing business.


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15

Bazsil folds his arms, still standing and looking down at Mr. Cabbage.

"That is interesting..."

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26 Sense Motive - does he believe that?

"Yes, yes, who are the nitwits? And how could you get closer to Iomedae again? What made her choose you?"


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

The asylum....

@Bazsil: Not sure what you get out of the sense motive roll.... the guy is clinically insane, but he is not trying to deceive you. As for what the truth is... who can say?

"Nitwits? Who said nitwits?" Jakob looks all around himself furtively, before leaning in conspiratorially, "I said nitwits, didn't I. Yes, the people that work here. I was perfectly happy and they took me away... gave me this... thing to live in." Jakob indicates his clothing with his hands... or is he gesturing at himself?

"Closer to Iomedae? Closer to her? She didn't choose me, I chose her! She is my god... and how else does one get closer to one's god? You'll have to kill me to find out! Hee hee ha ha ha ha!"


Male CG Human Bodyguard 4 | HP: 10 [49 rage]/41; DR 2/-| AC: 19 [rage]; 21 (13 Tch, 19 Fl) | CMB: +8, CMD: 21, Att +9 [+11] (2d6+7 [+9, PA, witch hunter]) | F: +6, R: +4, W: +4 [+6 rage/+9 superstition] | Init: +4 | Per: +8, SM: +1 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None.

Ciaran slithers on his belly the last few feet to the farm house (having stolen up as silently as possible in armour) and lies in the dirt beside Gratum and Wrigley. He raises his eyebrows, and they whisper the overheard password to him, pointing at the door.

Ciaran gestures to Wrigley, and then points to the door. Then he points to Gratum and his own chest, half-draws his sword, and gestures to the two sides of the door.

Grand Lodge

The Ambassador (Male NG Halfling Bard 3) | HP: 21/21 | AC: 18 (13 Tch, 16 Fl) | CMB: +1, CMD: 13 | F: +4, R: +7, W: +7 (+4 vs. bardic performance, language-dependent, and sonic, +2 vs. fear) | Init: +8 | Perc: +9,SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | Bardic Performance: 12/12 | Spells: clw, grease, hideous laughter (DC 15), sleep (DC 15) | Active conditions:

The halfling nods to Ciarán, hesitates for a moment as an expression of fear passes across his face, then wriggles across the earth toward the door after gathering his composure enough to act. Nearby to the door, Wrigley regains his feet, though still remains stooped and crouched, attempting to keep his profile low, and quietly draws his lute. While holding the instrument in one hand, the halfling prepares to push upon the door with all his strength once the others are in position, flanking the door, and his signaled to him the go-ahead.

Dark Archive

Human (Minnesotan) Rules Lawyer 4, GM 5!

Oblivious, Aeslin stands back as the other three crawl up. She wonders why they are being so cautious... it is only a farm house, what could go wrong?


Male CG Human Bodyguard 4 | HP: 10 [49 rage]/41; DR 2/-| AC: 19 [rage]; 21 (13 Tch, 19 Fl) | CMB: +8, CMD: 21, Att +9 [+11] (2d6+7 [+9, PA, witch hunter]) | F: +6, R: +4, W: +4 [+6 rage/+9 superstition] | Init: +4 | Per: +8, SM: +1 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None.

Seeing Wrigley heaving at the door, Ciaran makes a what-are-you-thinking facial expression and mimes knocking on the door. He makes a talking motion with one hand.

Then presses himself back against the wall and readies his sword.

Then sees Aeslin standing in the middle of the driveway in full view, sighs, gestures for her to move over by the trees, and then resumes his position.


Male NG Human Lorekeeper 4 | HP: 30/30 | AC: 13 (13 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: 0, CMD: 13 | F: +3, R: +5, W: +3 | Init: +9 | Perc: -2, SM: -2 | Speed 30ft | Hero: 3/3, Shift (10'): 8/8 | Extend: 2/3, Pearl: 2/2 | Active conditions: mage armor-8hrs

Meanwhile, back at the funny farm

"Swirling, could be the trip they took in The Audacious. If that is the case, then the other stuff must reference other things that happened." Gado mumbles to himself, trying to organize his thoughts out loud.

He turns to the others with him, "Well I think we can all deduce that while Jakob may be mad, he is not rambling about imaginary things..."

"Say Jakob, what were these gods you say that chased you with the cannibals and maggots? What was dead that you must kill it again? Did it touch you? Is that why you sought out Iomedae?"

"Did something detach his string of fate from the strands of time somehow? What on Golarion could do something like that with a touch? Or is it something from beyond?" Gado once again muses to himself as he waits for the answer, and peruses through his mind palace for clues. On his shoulder, Koney lets out an inopportune squawk, just to remind everyone he is still there.

Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26 This may not be appropriate, just figured I would toss that in there.


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Twilight sages...

Would anyone like to accost someone who is approaching, steal their robes that (conveniently) conceal the face... and try to infiltrate the gathering? You have the passphrase now, after all... y'know, since we're going cinematic, have some fun with it!

A quartet of robed travelers heads towards the farm house. Coincidentally, one is a dwarf, another a halfling, a woman and the last is a large man...

Or, you could do it another way. Up to you! If I don't hear from you overnight, I'll have you kick the door down instead (tomorrow).


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15
Isle of Dread wrote:
"You'll have to kill me to find out! Hee hee ha ha ha ha!"

Bazsil regards the offer seriously, wondering if the man is requesting mercy from his madness.

"Did you wish me to end you now? So that you might ask these questions of Iomedae? I would grant you this mercy if you wish it. Do you feel your life is still worth living?"


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Asylum...

Jakob becomes confused and frustrated by Gado's questions. "Cannibals..., yes, those who want to eat flesh. The spear - the pain! Maggots!" he screams, "Not undead... maggots, in me... the pain, the... decay. Iomedae saved me, but not until she could. She couldn't do it any earlier, now, could she? Not her fault... but still, I was waiting so long."

The orderlies and the nurse start walking with purpose towards Jakob and the trio questioning him. They all wear worried expressions. It is then that the three companions realize that Jakob is bleeding profusely from the arm he's been scratching.

Cyrus'd by Bazsil!

"You... you would kill me?... would it even work? Could it work?" Jakob looks up at Bazsil, lucid once more, "Let's find out. Do it. End this."


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Male LN Dwarf, King’s Engineer 4 | HP: 33/33| AC: 18 (13 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 16 | F: +3, R: +7, W: +2 | Init: +5 | Perc: +7, SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | wand of cure light 50/50; wand of enlarge person 50/50 [ooc]Active conditions: None.

Gratum grabs wrigley's wrist, seconds before he wraps his knuckles on the door. Confusing the poor halfling with yet more changes to the plan. Then nods backwards to the approaching group, that miraculously match their features enrobed.

He gives Ciaran a series of hand signals:

  • a. Points to Ciaran with his left hand, and then makes a half chop with a hard stop with that hand.
  • b. Then he points with his right hand to the approaching party, and puts the fingers of his right into the palm of his left.
  • c. Points to himself with his right hand, then brings it up behind where it stopped before. Fingers all together, pointing down.

Sense Motive?:

Stop them from going any closer, and I'll cut off their escape

Then Gratum slinks back into the darkness and bushes.


Male CG Human Bodyguard 4 | HP: 10 [49 rage]/41; DR 2/-| AC: 19 [rage]; 21 (13 Tch, 19 Fl) | CMB: +8, CMD: 21, Att +9 [+11] (2d6+7 [+9, PA, witch hunter]) | F: +6, R: +4, W: +4 [+6 rage/+9 superstition] | Init: +4 | Per: +8, SM: +1 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15

Ciaran nods, and slinks off into the bushes while Gratum moves further around.

4 figures walk into the bushes. There is some brief, violent noises, the squawking of a chicken, some flailing cloth, and the rustling of bushes, and then 4 figures emerge...


Male LN Dwarf, King’s Engineer 4 | HP: 33/33| AC: 18 (13 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 16 | F: +3, R: +7, W: +2 | Init: +5 | Perc: +7, SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | wand of cure light 50/50; wand of enlarge person 50/50 [ooc]Active conditions: None.

The dwarf looks at himself, then the large man, the halfling, nodding approvingly at each, and then at the woman...

"Ach! Lass... ye hafta leave your hat behind..." He says pulling her wide-brimed hat off her head, and pulling the hood far over her face.

Then he looks over the group again.

"I sure hope this works." and leads them on towards the farm house.


Female N Human (Kellish) Archeologist 4 | HP: 25/25 (9/9 temp) | AC: 16 (12 tch, 14 Fl) | CMB: +2, CMD: 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +4 | Init: +2 | Perc: +0, SM: +0 | Speed 30ft | Spells: Possibly || Active conditions: Mage Armor, False Life, Comp Languages

Aeslin follows the lead of the others, somewhat baffled by what they at doing. This wasn't like any research she had done before, but they seemed insistent. She was startled again as the dwarf, Gratum was it, pulled off her favorite hat! "Why, I never!" she muttered to Sebastian, trying to keep her voice down.


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Twilight sages...

The slightly awkward 'cultists' approach the door. A metal shutter slides back, revealing two green suspicious eyes within.

"The last of them..." comes the challenge.

"... shall never be again," the four reply in poorly practiced unison.

The green eyes narrow suspiciously and for a tense moment, the crew of the Audacious think they might have been discovered. A bolt slide back and the door opens inwards only enough to allow them ingress.

The four find themselves in a poorly lit dining room and kitchen. A single lantern hangs from the roof, dimly illuminating a table, chairs, shelves, doors to further rooms in the rear and... a trapdoor to the root cellar beneath. A heady smell - incense? - rises out from the cellar.

The green eyed man is robed similarly to the other cultists, but his mask isn't on. The companions note that he has a young but unremarkable face, jet black hair and is clearly wearing chainmail beneath his outer clothing. A pair of shortswords hang menacingly from his hips.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asks, irritated.

What are you waiting for? Describe your approach to the root cellar. I'll even allow you enough creative freedom to describe the initial scene down there. I think everyone knows the type of thing.


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Male NG Human Lorekeeper 4 | HP: 30/30 | AC: 13 (13 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: 0, CMD: 13 | F: +3, R: +5, W: +3 | Init: +9 | Perc: -2, SM: -2 | Speed 30ft | Hero: 3/3, Shift (10'): 8/8 | Extend: 2/3, Pearl: 2/2 | Active conditions: mage armor-8hrs

Gado at first looks in shock at the poor, tortured man, then to Bazsil. He looks up at the orderlies beginning to take notice and move towards the group, and all of the scenarios of things that could go wrong start flooding his mind. Flashes of being arrested or being beaten down by the burly, white-coated man in the corner cause his heart to stop beating. Another flash of manacles and padded rooms causes him to lose his breath for a second. The horror on his face is impossible to hide, even if Gado were savvy enough to mask his feelings.

He looks at Jakob, Cabbage Ears and time freezes for a moment. He sees the man, younger than himself, aged unnaturally and haunted by untold terrors, placated by magiks and medicines, doomed to live his life in a chair hoping the maggots and monsters don't get him while he sleeps.

"It's a pity, really. Life is... life. Valuable beyond measure. But I cannot say I blame him. His love is calling, and he would answer Iomedae's call, even if we all think he is crazy."

Gado waves his hands, calling forth the moisture from the air, "Obscuring mist" he says, hopefully out of earshot of the workers. Either way, they would know what happened soon enough.

"Go in peace Jakob. Tell Barbarosa hello for us when you see him next."

Gado turns his back, not wanting to see the gruesome sight if he can avoid it. There would be enough death in his future.


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Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15

"As you go find Iomedae, I shall seek Aroden. Two noble quests begin this day!"

Bazsil nods to the man's request and he gives Gado to do what he needs to do and flee. Hefting Lucy to the pre-mercy position, he entreats with Mr. Cabbage.

"Let us say the Prayer to Iomedae together..." Bazsil repeats the holy prayer to Iomedae in its original celestial, without knowing exactly what the words mean.

"Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena
Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria cosa buena
Dale a tu cuerpo alegria, Macarena
Hey Iomedae"

"Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena
Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria cosa buena
Dale a tu cuerpo alegria, Macarena
Hey Iome-DAE!!"

Bazsil brings his hammer down upon Mr. Cabbage's neck on the final 'DAE' sound in the holy prayer, using all the force in his arms and legs to end it in one blow.

2d12 + 16 ⇒ (2, 8) + 16 = 26 Coup de Cabbage

With that done, Bazsil follows Gado, running off. He shakes off bits of blood, bone, and brain from his hammer as he runs.


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(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Not sure how I feel about the Macarena here... but what the heck.

As Bazsil sings his song of death, Jakob "Cabbage Ears" Amos furrows his brow. At last he says, "Aroden? You know he's not..."

"DAE!"

As the mists clear, the orderlies arrive on the scene of murder. Elon is just sitting there, on top of Barley, eating noodles - occasionally sharing one with his horned buddy. He seems as surprised as the asylum staff are when he notices the former first mate with his head staved in. "Errm...." he begins.


Dwarf God of Pastry Magicks 4 | HP: 39/39 | AC: 17 (12 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +5, CMD: 17 | F: +8, R: +3, W: +7; (+4 spells/SLAs) (+2 poisons) | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +3 | Speed 20ft | Hero: 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4, 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

Watching the scene unfold before him as he slurps up his noodles, Elon and Barley watch in rapt attention. "You think the crazy man thinks Aroden is still alive? Wouldn't that be cool?"

Barley moos and receives another bite of noodles for his answer.

Grim wipes off his hammer and retreats into the hallway as orderlies show up to see what the fuss is. Elon shifts a bit to try and hide his scythe as they glare at him.

"They went that way!" yells Elon, pointing after Gado and the Grim with his chopsticks. They turn in time to see the last vestiges of Grim's locks rounding the corner.

GM:
If the men follow Grim and Gado, Elon will place the bowl on the ground for Barley and investigate the room for any hidden treasures or maps or books that look interesting. GM's choice on what is interesting

If they take him to the head of the facility, Elon will maintain his story about the killer leaving down the hallway (happily slurping up ramen) and say that he is under the employ of Lord Krinst, employer of the now late First Mate. "He'll probably want the man's effects, if you don't mind."

Bluff: 1d20 ⇒ 16 If you need it, but I don't think Elon is lying. Possibly use it for Diplomacy so people believe him?

Unless detained, Elon will head back to the meeting spot with whatever he has garnered.


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

The orderlies take the bait (or accurate directions to Bazsil and Gado) and leave Elon alone to wander into Jakob's quarters. The door locks on the outside, but otherwise it is appointed pleasantly enough. Lord Krinst has clearly taken time to care for the man. However, on the walls, beginning in blood but then with chalk (clearly the orderlies supplied him with chalk rather than let him maim himself further), there are scribblings all over the walls.

Elon can make neither heads nor tails of it, but it does show a pretty disturbing insight into Jakob's mind. 4/5ths of the walls are covered in ghoulish apparitions, the aforementioned swirls and glimpses of something beyond. The remaining 5th of the wall is covered in drawings of light, smiles and what clearly must be Jakob's impression of Iomedae.

The dwarven naturalist and his four-legged companion find no other items of note save for a lovingly knitted holy symbol of Iomedae (the real thing - a star-burst longsword - would be far too sharp to give to a madman).

Before long, the clomp of orderlies gets louder and Elon figures it would be best to become scarce.


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15
Isle of Dread wrote:
"Aroden? You know he's not..."

...alive?

Of course I know that. But maybe I will find something to hasten his return.

Bazsil runs and runs, escaping back to the hideout. He takes care to make sure he is not followed. Not that he has any regret for what he has done, but that he wishes to keep secrecy about their mission quiet. He's quite happy to have done the right thing with his gift of mercy.


Female N Human (Kellish) Archeologist 4 | HP: 25/25 (9/9 temp) | AC: 16 (12 tch, 14 Fl) | CMB: +2, CMD: 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +4 | Init: +2 | Perc: +0, SM: +0 | Speed 30ft | Spells: Possibly || Active conditions: Mage Armor, False Life, Comp Languages

Aeslin walks forward, stiffly, but paying attention to everything. She is scared, more scars than she ever has been in her life, but is trusting these me to protect her. 'Did we prepare the correct spells, Sebastian? Will our powers be enough? These cultist are truly evil.... Not just merchants daddy wished to take advantage of.' Sh keeps herself from showing a ward against evil, while just watching those around her. When they are brought to the root cellar, her eyes go wide in terror at the scene unfolding in front of her...

Grand Lodge

The Ambassador (Male NG Halfling Bard 3) | HP: 21/21 | AC: 18 (13 Tch, 16 Fl) | CMB: +1, CMD: 13 | F: +4, R: +7, W: +7 (+4 vs. bardic performance, language-dependent, and sonic, +2 vs. fear) | Init: +8 | Perc: +9,SM: +1 | Speed 20ft | Bardic Performance: 12/12 | Spells: clw, grease, hideous laughter (DC 15), sleep (DC 15) | Active conditions:

The halfling emerges from the bushes, his split lip and bruised face aching awfully. With sadness, he sets his musical instruments in the shadows, feeling almost defenseless without them. His hand pulls his robes closely to his face, then downward, bathing his features in shadow. With others just behind, he approaches the door, ready to answer in a hushed and meanicing tone, "... shall never be again..."

If there was any talking to be done on the other side, Wrigley knew this task would fall to him, this was his purpose within the group. People, occasionally, found him charming and likable, though he did not know why.

As the passcode leaves his lips, he knew he had learn what drove the Red Lady to her actions. He had to know what the true purpose of this gathering was.


Male NG Human Lorekeeper 4 | HP: 30/30 | AC: 13 (13 Tch, 10 Fl) | CMB: 0, CMD: 13 | F: +3, R: +5, W: +3 | Init: +9 | Perc: -2, SM: -2 | Speed 30ft | Hero: 3/3, Shift (10'): 8/8 | Extend: 2/3, Pearl: 2/2 | Active conditions: mage armor-8hrs

Gado runs with Bazsil to escape the scene. Doubts cloud his mind as he runs. did we just do the right thing? Could he have been saved? Or were they just trying to keep him comfortable? I am a master of knowledge in the planes. Surely he is in a better place, perhaps even with his precious Iomedae. Yes. I must believe that...

Gado stops as they run and doubles over, dry heaving a few times. At the end of his heaves, he comes to the conclusion in his mind, but can't help ask Bazsil anyways.

"That was the right thing to do... right? He is with his goddess now. Yes. I must believe that.

Grim... what do I do if I don't believe that? I'm... not sure..."

Shaking off the physical effects of his doubt, he picks his pace back up as the two maintain a brisk walk. In moments they blend into the streets and crowds of Magnimar. Moments later a gaggle of white coated orderlies runs the wrong way down another street behind them.


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Oh, man, now I need to describe the cultist scene myself...

At least a dozen figures in robes are gathered in the cellar, all are wearing masks with only one eye and the stylized star of Norgorber over it. The smell of incense is strong here, and the lighting is extremely poor. A brazier provides the room's only illumination. Behind the brazier is a dais. A few more robed figures arrive in the minutes that follow, but at last the man from the front door comes down and slides a heavy lock bolt into pace beneath the trapdoor.

Turning back to the dais, the companions see that another robed man has appeared and stands there with arms outstretched. His hood is drawn back and his robes, while still all black, are clearly made from a much higher quality fabric than the others. His mask is better fitting and the star over his left eye appears to be woven from white gold. A faint image of a darkened skull can be seen upon the mask's face as the firelight catches it. A hush comes over the crowd.

"First, a passage from The Words Behind the Mask," the head cultist begins.

"May the words remain forever hidden from the outside world," comes the monotone response from the crowd.

"Norgorber plots in the realm of gods, the city of Axis, as we do in the realm of men, the city of Magnimar. Our actions come from He Himself to fulfil his unknowable plans. Asking when we are not told to do so is not our lot," the head cultist pauses to glance around at the assembled crowd, "The lot of mortals in His great plan is to obey commands and deliver secrets. Hidden information is our currency, so hidden we remain."

"In time, may even this knowledge be wiped clean by the Reaper's hand," the crowd replies at the end.

"So, I have gathered all of you here again to let you know that the Red Lady failed in her mission," a gasp of horror comes through, "But even her failure has uncovered secrets. The corpse of the interloper, Barbarosa, could not be made to speak nor could it be returned to life that we may interrogate it. There are not many ways to achieve this, and we have made strides into finding out which way was used.

"Also, holy Norgorber has seen fit to allow the Red Lady to speak with us from beyond the grave. Even in her failure, she proves her value to her Master," the lead cultist waits for this to sink in a little, "She extracted secrets from the fools who were going to intrude on the Isle on Barbarosa's second expedition. While being interrogated, she exchanged some of her secrets for even more valuable secrets.

"We now know it was his ship itself and not magics or a particular route that allowed Barbarosa to reach the Isle. All of you must now focus on shipwrights. I want to know what was built and how. I will also need you, Dark Soul, to keep a closer eye on Lord Krinst. He wants Barbarosa's secrets to remain so even after the Captains death. I want to know why... and I want to know if he knows how to get to the Isle." A rake-thin robed figure, who must be Dark Soul, nods to the high priest.

"One last thing, for all of you," the skull on the lead cultist's face becomes momentarily clearer, "If you encounter the former crew of the suddenly prevented second expedition, kill them. We can interrogate their corpses. Any questions?"

"We thirst not for answers from our superiors," comes the expected response.

Okay, that kinda got away from me.... you get the gist, though. Let me know how you respond.


Half Elf Horn Dude 15 AC 25/23/17 / HP150 / F +14 R +10 W +11 / Init. +10/ Perc. +20 Sense Motive +27/Diplo +27 Nature+17 Local+14 Arcana13/Geog12/Dung+12/Planes15/Religion15
Smart Little Man wrote:
"Grim...what do I do if I don't believe that?"

"You content yourself with the knowledge that you could not have stopped me from doing that once I had decided it was the right thing to offer...and his right to accept my offer," Bazsil smugs as he thinks of his response, flicking his dark, oiled curls over his shoulders. "It is not for men like you to stop a man like me when I have decided on something. So, that should be your comfort."

Ayep. Baz is quite the charmer.

Bazsil ponders a bit more.

"But it was the right thing to do: who are we to deny another man their rights? To life or to death?"


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Male CG Human Bodyguard 4 | HP: 10 [49 rage]/41; DR 2/-| AC: 19 [rage]; 21 (13 Tch, 19 Fl) | CMB: +8, CMD: 21, Att +9 [+11] (2d6+7 [+9, PA, witch hunter]) | F: +6, R: +4, W: +4 [+6 rage/+9 superstition] | Init: +4 | Per: +8, SM: +1 | Speed 30ft | Active conditions: None.

"I have a question. Why are we doing this? What do we want from the Isle of Dread? Is it just because it's a mystery, or do y- we have some special interest there?"

The cultists turn to face Ciaran.

"What?"


(GM Damo) | Main Map | Big Map | Tactical | The Audacious | Loot

Only 4 player posts yesterday, and 2 after my last one at 10am. I'll give you guys today to post some more, since it'll be a slow posting day for me anyway. Asylum guys, feel free to bust in at this point and 'save' the undercover cultists or what have you. There's not a lot else they'll learn at this point and I think an extraction might be in order after Ciarán's last comment (I loved it, you magnificent bastard).

"Who.... are... you?!?!" cries the head Cultist, "You are not Calm of Night, but you will explain yourself!" Several cultists move to detain Ciarán.


Steelkeg Yak 4 | HP: 22/22 | AC: 17 (11 Tch, 16 Fl) | CMB: +6, CMD: 17 | F: +5, R: +5, W: +1 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0 | Speed 40ft | Hero: 3/3 | Spells: One day... | Active conditions: None.

"Mooo..." echoes the yak as his chompers bite down on the soft, squishy hilt of the yarn longsword.

-Posted with Wayfinder


Dwarf God of Pastry Magicks 4 | HP: 39/39 | AC: 17 (12 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +5, CMD: 17 | F: +8, R: +3, W: +7; (+4 spells/SLAs) (+2 poisons) | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +3 | Speed 20ft | Hero: 3/3 | Spells: 1st 4/4, 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

A soft thwack knocks into Elon's head as the new possession of Barley wallops him while he looks under the bed. "Finders keepers, I guess... Ain't nothing here." Elon says as he gives one last look around.

"Does this make you the new First Mate? " Elon asks the yak as they walk back towards the warehouse.

---

"We should make a quick stop..." Elon comments to Barley as he hears a familiar tune in the nearby square.

-Posted with Wayfinder


Busker Extraordinaire and Procurer of Rare Items 2 | HP: 17/17 | AC: 18 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +0, CMD: 13 | F: +2, R: +7, W: +1 | Init: +3 | Perc: +6, SM: +3 | Speed 20ft | Hero: 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

This oaf better have coin... thinks the opportunistic halfling as Elon explains his needs to Platonius.

After hearing the request in full, Platonius can't help but chuckle. "Of course, I know a guy."

-Posted with Wayfinder

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