|GM Phoenix Kyten|
Your letters of introduction you've been sent from the Grand Lodge, direct you into the area known as Galt, specifically to the town of Woodsedge. This is located on the northern edge of the Verduran Forest.
As you make your way through the town, notable are the scant few figures dressed in gray, with tri-corner hats and grey veils covering their face. It seems the common citizens give a wide berth to the few you see traveling through the streets. The atmosphere unlike other places you've been sent to in the Inner Sea seems almost subdued, even Ustalv could be called cheery in comparison.
These are known as Gray Gardeners, The Gray Gardeners are the hooded executioners of Galtan justice, and are violent, mob-ruled, and rarely just. During the ever-changing Red Revolution that has soaked Galt in blood for over 40 years, the Gray Gardeners have remained a constant.
Any of the commoners you see on the streets also seem to be giving you as strangers just as wide of a berth going through the streets.
You make it to the Woodsedge Lodge, and are all shown into a room.
Late afternoon light pours in through the windows of the meeting room in Galt's Woodesdge Lodge, and the smell of freshly baked pastries wafts in from the kitchen. Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro sits at the head of a polished mahogany table in from of a tall pile of papers. She clears her throat. "I'm glad to see that all of you made it here safely. My name is Eliza Petulengro. And what are the names of the agents who answered my call today?"
Describe and Introduce yourselves!
Bash the Magician walks slowly through town, a miner's pick hefted up over his shoulder as he goes. His many other weapons hanging from his back and belt clanging against his banded mail as he walks.
K:Local(untrained): 1d20 ⇒ 4 What in the bloody hells is up with this place? They walk 'round like a swarm of jellies just took over their adamantine mine! He shakes his head in disgust, returning the 'stink' eyes he gets from the locals. "I ain't got the plague! Ya bunch of Sally's!"
He finally sees the sign for the Woodsedge Lodge "'Bout f#%!in time! Woah what's that smell?" He heads inside and quickly hits the bar for a something to wash down the dust and ask about that bread smell before meeting with the Captain. "Hook me up quick, some ale and whatever's makin that smell!"
He heads into the meeting room, wiping his face and beard as he goes "Hey. I'm Bash, I got yer note and hurried on out, fast as a Dwarf can hurry I guess. I got bills that need payin, and the pickin's was slim back in Ab'slaam. Need me to knock some sense into these townsfolk or somethin?"
Bash has a CHA of 5 so... I'll be doing my best to RP that out... if anyone has an issue with swearing please let me know, cuz he cusses like an ornery Dwarf should...
A short figure steps forward, hardly noticed until now. He's cowled in a black cloak, his face and hands obscured, and he stands barely four foot tall. When he lifts his arms to pull the hood back, the sleeves drop down his arm revealing deep indigo-colored hands before his only slightly lighter-colored face comes into view. Tattoos of white dots dance everywhere that you see skin.
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
"I'm Tenibri." He squints quickly as he decides his next words. "Galt is a curious place," he begins, trying to not appear too anxious. "Those Gray Gardeners out there; everything I've read says you have to be really careful; they'll execute anybody for anything, if they don't like it and they can get the crowd to go along."
"The saying is that they can always get the crowd to go along." His eyebrows raise, a split-second foreshadowing of the question already forming on his lips.
"Is that true?"
He seems eager for an answer, a bit more shaken by the mood of the streets than he seems to want to let on.
I have no objection to profanity.
K local, untrained: 1d20 ⇒ 11
As Kalak walks into Galt and sees the executioners, she tries to blend in with the crowd as best she can, despite the people's tendency to make room around her. She guesses a Tian can hardly go without notice here, and these people must be prejudiced against strangers, and she quickly makes her way to the lodge.
When she enters, the smell of fresh baked goods makes her smile. "Finally a meeting place with decent food. I hope I get to have a taste of it. It has been weeks since I've had a decent meal."
She obediently follows a retainer into miss Petulengro's office. She glances at the two agents already present before fixing her eyes on the venture captain. The lithe Tian woman stands, careful to keep a very straight and formal posture. When the captain turns to her, she bows, and answers in a very soft tone, "My name is Kalak Chei, captain. I came all the way from Dtang Ma to serve the Pathfinder Society. I hope to be of use."
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
A young human woman of obvious Varisian heritage makes her way into the lodge, pausing at the door to make sure none of the gray-veiled people were following. Once satisfied, she sighs and shakes her head, just catching the Venture-Captain's introduction as she begins. "Hello everyone, I'm Natalia. Nice to meet you all. Oh hey Kalak, nice to work with you again! Hopefully we can stay from minotaurs this time, if not the Gray Gardeners."
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
Lyte N'ing, Tsschas, and Summoner, can still introduce, I'm just wanting to move things along here, we're still in introductions.
Eliza listens patiently as you all introduce yourselfes, and focuses on you with an unnerving intensity as each of you speak.
“As expected. Excellent.” Moments later, a wiry man wearing a tailored suit strides into the room. A white porcelain mask covers his face, and he wears a thin red ribbon around his neck. In his gloved hands, he carries a tray of sweet and savory pies, which he sets in the center of the table before quietly slipping away.
The venture-captain serves herself a generous slice of pie. “Mind that you don’t get food on the papers,” she says. “They record the information that your fellow agents have been gathering about the ebb and flow of Galtan society. To perform such work properly is, unfortunately, far less interesting than it sounds. I have a more engaging opportunity in mind for you. You’ll be traveling about a hundred miles up the Sellen River to the village of Rosehaven. Rosehaven is the home of Armeline, a savvy information gatherer who was once a reliable contact for the Pathfinder Society. Twelve years ago, she was accused of espionage against the revolution in connection with some of her past work with the Society. She sent a cry for help the Grand Lodge. It was an exceedingly difficult situation, considering only a few months earlier revolutionaries stormed this very lodge and killed my predecessor and her servants. Following that tragedy, the Decemvirate suspended all operations in Galt. It was a sensible decision—after all, the Decemvirate is not in the business of sending agents on suicide missions— but it seemed a death sentence for Armeline. Whether through luck, guile, or both, Armeline survived. I would like to extend a formal apology to her, and hopefully convince her to consider working with the Society in the future. We have before us the perfect opportunity. Rosehaven’s upcoming festival culminates in a ceremony of ritual forgiveness, which may encourage her to move past the Society’s unfortunate necessity so many years ago. I’ve arranged for a riverboat to pick you up at dawn. You’ll arrive in Rosehaven in the morning of the first day of the festival." Eliza frowns, “Oh, and one more thing. I have a hunch, and I learned to trust my hunches years ago. I doubt this mission will be as simple as it seems. Stay alert.”
She sits back carefully eating the slice of pie. "Anything that you need to ask before you go?"
A being clad in leather enters the room, if ever there was a sylph that tried to conceal themselves as mostly human, he wasn't it. With the flourish of blue that swirls his visible skin, you would be hard pressed to discern the classic pale sylphs are said to be. His obnoxiously pointed ears look almost as if he had his flesh warped purposefully to over-accent his Djinn heritage. His mostly shaved head ends in a grayish pasty Curly Q front swoop.
KNO LOCO UNTRAINED: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
"Doncha love it when the locals look at ya like you got the PLAGUE!"
He scans the "sorry lot" inhabiting the room. Stopping to look directly into the eyes of the dwarf.
"FANTASTIC! Full of piss and vinegar you are! Exactly the utmost you could ever ask in a Dwarven frontman!"
He slams his right fist into his left palm and bows to the ladies,
"Excellent to see what all too many misunderstand as the weaker gender properly represented here. By the time a man stumbles at the bat of an eye...they've already been unconscious or deceased for the 3 seconds it took you to put them in their respective states of unwellitaneousnessosity!"
He regards Kalak, "You're deadly..." He then turns to Natalie,"...and you're just poisonous!"
"Wee man over there...well met sir! Stay dark and mysterious as yours often do...most do not deserve any better! Yes FANTASTIC!"
"N'Ing, (pronounced "nine" with an nearly silent G) of the family Lyte. Ma woulda named me T'Eng, but she wanted to leave me room for improvement!"
Bash scowls at the sylph I should head butt that a%~~%~+ right in the kisser! But then I'd not get paid... then the scowl turns to merely a nod.
"Meat pies, excellent! Pass one of them this way Mr Masked Man!" He grabs it up with his bare hands and steps back from the papers before asking his question with a full mouth "Boat in the mornin', check, 'hundred miles on a barge... gonna take a while eh? Good thing, cuz that Armeline lady is gonna be PISSED! Don't know how you expect us to pull this miracle off!"
Tenibri looks relieved to learn that they'll be leaving the city. Those Gray Guardians had me worried. It will be good to leave them behind. With less of a pressing concern, he helps himself to a pie before continuing.
"Well, then I guess we should make arrangements for the travel. Are there any particular threats we should be on the alert for, anything we can prepare for now?"
If there is no particular advice, it seems like Tenibri is ready to go.
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
"Nothing immediately in the here and now, Woodsedge is a place that if anyone needs supplies or even a few odds and ends. They are used to travelers, even if they are not openly friendly merchants here do understand the clink of coins." Eliza mentions.
Questions if you have them, or let me know you want to move up river.
Bash helps himself to another meat pie since most of the others apparently don't appreciate good cooking "I just gotta refill the ole feed sack and I should be ready. We got a place to stay for the night or we doin some campin with all those creeps wanderin round town?"
Just need some rations.
Kalak nods to Natalia has she comes in. At the mention of minotaurs, she gives her an uneasy smile. "I sure hope we can stay away from those."
Perplexed by the sylph's attitude, Kalak cocks an eyebrow and doesn't reply when he comments on her ability to kill, neither wanting to insult him nor encourage him. Once the servant comes in with pies, she smiles with renewed enthusiasm. Trying to stay reasonable, she takes a slice of pie that would seem ridiculously small to most people. She eats it carefully as she listens to their debriefing. She nods as Eliza defends the Decumvirate's decision to cease operations in Galt. She lets others ask questions, trusting what is needed has been given to them.
"I take it, they have the common spells available here? Was maybe thinking of picking up a scroll or two! Any sort of extreme climate we may find ourselves bearing while we're there?"
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
You have time to go shopping and do anything that you need in Woodsedge before you leave. The Venture Captain arranges for lodging for you until the next day free of charge. Yes Common spells are available
Ten days go by on the boat and it pulls up to a small dock along the river, about a half a mile off in the distance is the sight of a small town.
A wizened dock hand helps pull people off the boat, "If you need lodging the inn back that way has some rooms, may want to hurry the festival is about to start and might be hard to find the man with the key after that."
As you walk into the town, there are hay bales that are set up around the town square. Some of them have small piles of gourds and pumpkins sitting on them. It appears that a handful have been cleaned out and small knives sitting by them, and children looking on excitedly.
Ten days on a river barge with Bash is a long time. Being around the Dwarf for that long with no place to get away is trying on one's patience. Rude, crude, with massive deficiencies in his social skills, as well as personal hygiene really makes sense why he's a miner by trade. "If ya don't like my opinion on yer ham n grits then take a jump in the river!"
Its pretty obvious he was getting on the boat driver's nerves as well as he gets off the ship with a hrmph and some stomping of boots. "Well weren't that trip a treat. Hope we get a better boat for the trip home, that one is infested with a@~&%&%s!" He says while standing next to the dock hand.
"Point me to the inn kid, I gotta take a ten day old s~!@ on solid ground!" And with that he stomps off towards the establishment, only stopping for a moment to give a random pumpkin on the ground a solid boot in anger.
Kalak spent most of the boat trip being very quiet and looking at all the things around her. Often, she seemed to be completely lost in thought and not seeing anything anymore, as she puzzled over what might have happened to Armeline. When she was like that, not even Bash's loud cursing could bring her out of her thoughts to frown at him. While she stood by the Decumvirate's decision, she was very troubled by this story.
When they finally reached Rosehaven, she stepped of the boat and waited to see what they others wanted. Getting a room at the inn did seem like a good idea. She was a little taken aback when Bash stormed off without a second thought, but she followed him right away, staring at the back of the kid Bash had picked out of the crowd.
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
The man on the dock looks like he could easily be sixty or so, takes a second and then looks amused at the Dwarf.
"Ivy will hook you up oldtimer. You're looking for the Silver Flute Inn." He replies.
Bash Steeltoe: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Kalak Chei: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
As Bash kicks the pumpkin out of the way, she could swear the other pumpkins rocked just enough out of the way to miss getting hit before settling back down with a very soft whispering sound that you can barely notice.
N'Ing of the family Lyte bought a scroll of Stumble Gap and a sling and 10 bullets while in town. On the boat trip, he offered his services where he could to help out, engaging the boatsmen in conversation about their travels and the passing geography if it was welcomed.
Kalai couldn't help but turn around and double check as she thought she saw a few pumpkins move on their own. She quickly looked at Bash and, seeing no reaction on his part, shook her head as she kept walking. It must have been a trick of the light, she thought.
Bash mutters back to the guy "Aight." And continues on without looking back. Best not be flutin all damn night, some people like to sleep!
Tenibri gathers his few belongings as the ship approaches Rosehaven. He debarks with the others. He shakes his head at Bash's rough manner, but follows him--it was effective, after all, at locating the inn. Still, he doesn't have to be so aggressively rude.
Natalia mostly kept to herself during the barge trip, perhaps she's still getting used to some of her companions' colorful personalities. Unsurprisingly, she appears very happy when the group arrives at its destination. "Okay, let's go check out this inn."
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
As the group walks around town, they are pointed out to a sign hanging above a building saying the 'Silver Flute Inn' -- inside they find a middle aged human woman.
"Well new people, guessing you'll need a bit to stay, how long do you'll plan on staying around?" She mentions as she starts to walk towards the case that is on the side of the room. "You'll be staying for the festival yes? Might as well start yourselves out on the right foot then!"
She pulls out the flute and offers it up to the party. "Who wants to take a try at it? No one here will mind if your a bit rusty."
Kalak Chei: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Natalia Markovich: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Tenibri: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
Bash Steeltoe: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Lyte N'Ing: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
There appears to be a completely mundane silver flute displayed in the case that catches your eye as soon as you walk in.
You see a few of the patrons, finishing up their drinks quickly at the look of newcomers and shuffling towards the door.
Sorry I keep getting goblin are in the servers screen, and trying to keep things going
Though having no training in wind instruments, N'Ing is willing to take a shot, counting on his electric personality to win the crowd over if he happens to fail miserably.
"It has been a long while M'lady, but I am willing to take a crack at this for sake of nostalgia and the chance to entertain!"
Untrained PERFORM: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Tenibri also nods his head in approval. "That was really good, Lyte! You should take a crack at that more often--it could be a career!"
Bash takes a look at the flute and shakes his head soundly "Nah, flutes are fer nancies." He says with a snort, and then looks around the main room of the inn, hoping there's a bar attached.
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
"Precious Natalia... wee Tenibri, I appreciate your applause! But please, call me N'Ing. Our family kept our surname first to separate those we hold dear from those we merely acquaintance ourselves with. And as our lives seem to depend on each other, I hold you both as the former!"
Kalak withdrew ever so slightly when she was offered the flute. It was hard to imagine herself giving such a spectacle. She did, however, appreciate N'Ing's performance, and couldn't stop herself from tapping her foot to the rhythm of the music... with a slight delay. She applauded with the others, in quiet little claps.
DC10 PER: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Too engrossed in putting on a good show for the locals, N'Ing notices nothing out of the ordinary.
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
Ivy smiles widely and hands you a key to the biggest room that could accompany everyone. "Don't dwaddle too long you'll miss the blessings of the festival."
After you all get settled in and start out, the village square slowly fills with people. More pumpkins have been brought out and children are eagerly running about and playing. With more than an occasional question on how much longer do they have to wait.
An older looking gentleman in the brightly colored robes of Shelyn. He asks everyone to gather around and join hands. He offers prayers to Shelyn, the Eternal Rose, thanking her for the blessings that she's granted Rosehaven and a small procession of children bring gourds to him which he then blesses for the art they are about to produce.
He takes time out of what has turned into a small but lighthearted sermon, to remind the children that there is no teasing or bragging about their skill, all art is blessed in the eyes of Sheyln.
He eventually makes his way around to where the party has gathered. “Welcome, travelers! You have picked an excellent day to visit Rosehaven. We’re celebrating Mercylight. As you just heard, this festival is dedicated to the grace of Shelyn, but you don’t have to worship Shelyn to participate. Go ahead, grab a pumpkin or two, and carve whatever you wish. There are plenty more in the fields, so don’t be shy!”
"Okay, sure. Not exactly what I was expecting, but why not?" Natalia says in regards to the pumpkin carving. She then picks up a medium sized gourd and begins to carve the Silver Crusade's symbol into it.
Bash gives the priest a slightly skeptical look but nods along none the less Play nice, get paid. "Sounds like we be carvin' punkin's! I'll take two!" He hollers with a deep voice and pulls out his worn dagger to do the work.
Bash finds a seat and drops off his backpack and his pile of weapons leaning up against it while he carves. He carves the pumpkins into football shaped heads with mouths full of sharp pointy teeth and beady eyes.
Craft Pumpkin Goblins!: 1d20 ⇒ 13
Tenibri is happy to take part in the town's festivities. He settles on a smaller pumpkin, and tries to carve the eyes, head and beak of an eagle into it.
Craft (jack-o-lantern): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
N'Ing cannot help himself...he tries his best to carve a pumpkin into the face of a surly dwarf. He accents his masterpiece by rutting two oblong oval grooves on each side of the head to look like a split double Mohawk.
Craft: 1d20 ⇒ 2
"I heard a wise man once say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!"
Kalak, well aware that people are expecting them to participate, shows her good will by also picking out a pumpkin. She figures at least once she's done she can put it among the others and walk away from it without being noticed too much herself. She starts working on the pumpkin, attempting to carve the shape of deer antlers.
craft pumpkin: 1d20 ⇒ 3
She struggles to do it. At first, when she nicks the pumpkin by mistake, she tries to make it into just another point, but in the end, she cuts out so much that it doesn't look like anything.
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
As the number of carved pumpkins outnumbers the ones left un-carved, a group of villagers heads out to the field with a cart. They come back a time later, with the cart refilled. Some of the pumpkins still covered in mud and moss from the fields.
One of them moves over to Bertinard and speaks to him softly in whispers. The conversation looks from a distance a bit grim.
He then comes over to the group. "I'd hate to ruin your time here, but you have the look of adventurers, and your usually braver than most in times where things do not go quite as planned? Would you be the type that could face a grisly situation in a time of need?"
Kalak Chei: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Natalia Markovich: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Tenibri: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Bash Steeltoe: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Lyte N'Ing: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
A few of the pumpkins have a darker, thinner substance on them then field mud. You almost suspect there is a few of the pumpkins in the cart with a bloody hand print.
Tenibri has been walking around with his pumpkin under his arm for a while, quite proud of what he carved. When he sees the quiet conference begin, though, he quickly finds a place to set it down with the other carved pumpkins and moves a little closer. When Bertinard motions them all over, he nods his head as he approaches. This looks like something troubling. Walking over, he can't help but notice something other than mud on some of the newly gathered pumpkins. Was that a handprint?!?
"Father, we are Pathfinders. Helping out in times of need is what we do." His gaze wanders back to the cart and the troubling thing that he thinks he saw there.
"How can we help?"
Bash quickly stands up, setting his little gobbie stompers for later "You talkin' about trouble? Anything to liven up the day! Point out them trouble makers and we'll PUT THEM DOWN!" He pounds his fist into his other open hand with a smile on his face.
He rounds up his backpack and equipment, throwing the half ton of weapons and gear over his shoulder like it was merely a small sack of potatoes. "Or we talkin' about somethin' more dangerous?" He gestures to his massive earth breaker with a smile on his face.
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
"We're gathering at a small meeting here. It should be apparent then." He looks around specifically at a small flock of children rushing past with pumpkins.
The meeting gathers a short time later. Bertinard spends the first few minutes recounting the crop yields and boring issues from the area. By which time the children that had hung on to their parents have become bored and gone back to play with the other children.
"Now that the children have gone," He clears his throat. "We've found Elm dead in his fields." Holding up his hands for a moment for silence as the whispers go around. "We don't know what happened or what is going on but it was not a natural death."
A human female stands up. "Thank you Bertinard, some of you don't know me I'm Elise Tivareau. I lead the local militia here, normally we don't see anything like this around here, we're actually quite some distance from most of the issues in Galt up here. I know he's asked that some of you who are more experienced help take a look at things, and when your ready we can head out to the field."
An older human woman, stands up quickly that her hat falls back leaving her white hair a fright and exposed. "We've never had any trouble around here." She starts to point wildly at the party. "None, until these folks here showed up!"
An man sitting off to another side chewing on a long piece of grass speaks up. "Now calm down Harriet, no one needs to be pointing fingers at anyone here. We don't know what he was up to keeping to himself and all. Sure ol' Elm would help with the harvests and the fields but what else was he up to, never stayed in town much at all."
Elise looks over to the party, "I think you can see my issue, we never had anything more than a little bit of petty thievery around these parts. Things may heat up a bit quickly."
Bash gives the old white haired biddy a scowl "Oh don't go blamin' this on us you old coot, we JUST got to town. 'Sides, you think I'm sneakin' off anywhere's with this armor and all these weapons? Lets have a look at the body before we start pointin' fingers, maybe a wolf or somethin' got em."
He turns his attention to Elise and nods approvingly "Glad to see someone here's got a good head on them's shoulders. I'm ready whenever, sooner is better then later." Ain't we supposed to meet a Elise here...
"Ahem, my dwarven associate means no real disrespect ma'am, he's just a little thin-skinned. My apologies." Natalia says to the older woman before turning her attention to Elise, "As Bash says, we would be happy to help you look into the situation. Can you tell us anything else about Elm and what happened to him?"
Diplomacy with Harriet: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Kalak accompanies the group, warily eyeing the pumpkins and trying to see if she can clearly identify those stains she thinks she saw. When a woman suddenly accuses them of being the source of their problems, she recoils, startled and confused, and frowns at her. She lets the people argue until the crowd starts dissolving into smaller groups. She looks at her companions and simply says, "Let's go."
Surprised Natalia came off so lukewarm, N'Ing tries to help the situation,
"Friends, Galtans, countryfolk, lend me your ears! Please do not see us as harbingers of doom. Instead, think of us as a timely boon-delivered to you in your most dire hour of need. We will get to the bottom of this most dreadful misfortune and bring the source to justice!"
DIP: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
When the tone of the meeting begins to turn against the Pathfinders, with suspicion rising, Tenibri does what he does best... go unnoticed. He keeps quiet and tries not to draw attention to himself. Every Wayang grows up knowing what undue suspicion feels like, and develops instinctual methods to avoid it in the first place.
He continues to watch and listen as best he can, but lets the others take charge of defusing the situation, preferring to wait until later to bring his own abilities to bear.
|GM Phoenix Kyten|
"Can't be any worse than those Pathfinders people occasional talk about. Someone mentions from the crowd that you can't pick out precisely.
"We don't need any outsiders, that's what this ceremony is about. Bertinard casting away the evil!"
Bertinard will speak up at this point. "Let us see what is going on first, we haven't had anyone trained in looking at these things even take a look at it, we just know he died. That was a long time ago."
Elise and a few of her guards escort the group out to one of the near by fields before anymore of the discussion can focus on them.
A middle-aged man’s body lies on the ground about 50 feet away from the front door. His battered corpse is facedown and wrapped in pumpkin vines. The vines wrapping Elm’s body do not cover it entirely; they encircle his arms and legs, and one vine even wraps around his head, holding his jaw open. Underneath the vines, Elm’s clothing is torn and singed in places. Patches of brown fungus are scattered on the ground near his body
You get a sense that the guards are watching you closely, during the trip and while you are there.
The man's body has combination of rows of puncture wounds from a creature with a wide maw as if something had attempting to chew and eat his various limbs and an attempt at the soft flesh of the stomac. Severe bruises in rope like restraints around his limbs and three lines of them around his neck as well as large splotches as if from impact trauma of some force showing through the holes burnt in his clothes across his shoulders and chest. Burn wounds cover the whole front of his body, leaving the tatters of his clothing behind giving your healers a good look at the damage.
You determine that he died some time in the last 2 days.
He died between 8 and 16 hours ago.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10 Bash catches some hairy eyeballs getting thrown in his direction from the group of guards 'escorting' them out to the body. Just let 'em try somethin', I'll make them disappear so fast they won't know what hit 'em!
Once he gets to the field with the corpse he's quick to take in the grizzly scene, and bends down on a knee to check out the corpse.
Heal vs 1: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Heal vs 2: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
"HA! What did I tell ya. Look at this poor guy. See how stiff he is? Been dead maybe a couple days."
He lifts up the tattered remains of his burnt clothes and points out some things to the guards and Elise "The man's body has rows of puncture wounds from a creature with a wide maw as if something had attempting to chew and eat his various limbs and an attempt at the soft flesh of the stomach." Bash then flashes his teeth to the crowd, showing the obvious differences between the two. "This poor fella got chewed on something with a real big row of teeth, just like I said, some wildlife or somethin!"
He pulls away some of the pumpkin vines to show severe bruises in rope like restraints around his limbs and three lines of them around his neck as well as large splotches as if from impact trauma of some force showing through the holes burnt in his clothes across his shoulders and chest. Burn wounds cover the whole front of his body, leaving the tatters of his clothing behind giving you a good look at the damage. "Hells, looks like these vines or something held him down or choked him! What kinda punkins you growin' here people?"
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (9) + 0 = 9
Heal: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (6) + 0 = 6
Heal: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (13) + 0 = 13
Tenibri looks at Bash in awe as the dwarf performs an excellent investigation. Hmmm.... he could use a bit of polishing, but he sure is smart. I would never have noticed all that.
He starts investigating the fungus that seems to be scattered around the body. "Is this fungus normal? Does it always grow in your pumpkin patches?"