Leinathan's Rise of the Runelords (Inactive)

Game Master leinathan

Drawn into an evil conspiracy by a vicious goblin attack, will the PCs be able to prevent the Rise of the Runelords?

Map of Sandpoint

Kingmaker Information

Battle Zones in Sandpoint

Foxglove Manor Map


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Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Cover story:
Rhanloi confers with Khalbar that night over dinner. "I think our best course is to take the roads through the mana wastes and into Geb. I will be a travelling mage in search of learning more about necromancy - and you will be my 'protection.' Really not too much of a diversion from the truth, so it should be easy to maintain! This will allow us to travel in the open and ask some questions without arousing suspicions. What do you think?"


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Pick:
Pick shifts his weight unhappily, foot-to-foot, at the keen eyes of the... whatever the female is. Drow-cousin? Maybe. He looks to Killy An to see if Killy An will explain, but if not, Pick therefore must use the words.

Thump goes the body off his shoulders, onto the floor.

"The dead... banker... These men watching, in the bank. Sneaking. Come to kill more. Killy An and P-- I fought them. Bring for questions. Yes? Killy An and... I... were followed here. Watchers in streets. Many eyes. More of these, maybe."

Pick rocks uneasily on his feet some more, because he is in the presence of authority and that always makes him both want to please the one with power, and also to not get in trouble.

He is being generous, he knows, to say that Killy An fought-- he thinks Killy An is not much of a fighter-- but then, the man did heal him, so it is nice, Pick thinks, to lie a little to Killy An's superior, in order that Killy An is not punished, as Killy An surely would be if he were to say And your Killy An could not strike a single blow!

(But just so we're clear, Killy An, this definitely clears any debt Pick has to you.)

Pick's hands are sweating a bit. Why are there so many bright lights in topsider buildings? It is painful, and it makes him feel very exposed under the topsider female's bright eyes.

"--also dead banker had this," he mumbles, and pulls out the pendant he had hidden away. Sometimes the elders can read thoughts. It would be bad if the female could read that he had taken the thing.

"Maybe men-in-black put it there. Maybe there already. P-- I do not know."


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

Khalbar grunts his assent at the plan, which doesn't sound particularly far from the truth. "What kind of trouble do we expect in these Wastes? Do we need to get arms or gear to protect ourselves?"


Human Monk 5 [ HP: 48/48 | AC: 16 | T: 16 | FF: 13 | CMB: 9 / CMD: 23 | Fort +7 / Ref +6 / Will +3 | Init +4 / Percept +10 ]

Kyra:
"Yes," she mutters when Scarnetti finishes. "Let's keep living in the past, under fear of goblins and in the blind spots of gods."

Leaving the podium, Kyra shakes hands with a few people before heading off, as there is considerable work to still be done. After all, she and Podiker blew up an entire bridge, and that would need to be dealt with.

Actually, if there are any people who have damaged homes still, we'll start there? Second would be the Cathedral, since it matters a lot to these people, and then third would be the bridge?


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Kyra:
It seems that overall, the crowd reacted more favorably to Kyra's words than to Scarnetti's, though there are many in the crowd who didn't take so well to Kyra's more radical ideas. The next week goes pretty quickly as she throws herself into repairs. Scarnetti offers up the wood from his mills at a greatly reduced price, and the labor of his workers for free, and he holds a meeting daily in front of the temple to ascertain what it is the townspeople want worked on. For her part, Kyra throws herself at the destroyed buildings, using her prodigious strength and superhuman toughness to work nearly all day at repairing the damaged structures of the town.

First is the Sandpoint Bridge, which, with her help, is mostly re-erected in the first four days of the campaign. The obvious first step is to lay down the foundation-supports in the river, which is a tough affair for most, but with Kyra's help goes much quicker. The rest is just bringing wood to the site and nailing.

Eventually, Kyra decides to retire from that task and gets to work in the Glassworks, helping to blow glass for the many destroyed panes in the village. She then gets out there personally and begins to re-fix the destroyed glass. Overall, the week goes quite well for her. Her predictions of what Scarnetti was bound to do ended up being completely correct, and if the dozens of back-pats and very heartfelt thank-yous she receives are any indication, her acts are well-received.

So what I'm looking for next is the second thing you do to engender good feelings, with the second week.

Apologies for the slow speed. I will continue to post on this, but the posts are invariably very involved and require quite a bit of mental effort. Thus, until the party reunites it's nearly inevitable that my posting speed will be laggard. I had Flibble and Pick posts, but somehow I hit the back button or something and I haven't the heart to re-write them tonight. Also, Rhanloi and Khalbar, could you enunciate finalized plans and/or say you're leaving?


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Pick:
The captain cocks an eyebrow at Pick's explanation of things, and takes the amulet from his hand, examining it critically. Eventually, she just puts it away into a hip pocket. She looks Pick up and down as Killian provides extra explanation, describing the bankers' body and the eerie silence of the masked assailants. "Hm." she says, twirling a small section of her chin-length hair. "This...carving of the banker sounds familiar. We got another victim in, just a couple days ago with another one of these...seven-pointed stars in his chest. Come."

With a flick of her hand, she beckons Pick and Killian to follow her. She goes deeper into the Arvensoar, entering a cool and deep dungeon level beneath the regular guardsman's operating level. Continually descending stairs, she leads the pair of you down into a room festooned with shiny metal tables, about a dozen of which have the corpse of a humanoid lying upon them. Inside the room is a single man, clad in grey robes and with a white spiral amulet hung around his neck. As Pick, Killian, and the captain enter, the man is currently casting a spell upon one of the corpses, and as he completes it, the room becomes awash with the smell of new-house.

He and the captain share a nod as the trio enter the morgue, but no words. The captain leads Pick and Killian over to one of the bodies, explaining, "We kept him here cause no one's come to claim or identify him, and he was probably murdered...Here he is. Same symbol as you saw on the banker?" she asks, looking to Pick and Killian.

Strangely, Pick recognizes who the man used to be - tall, muscular, Shoanti. Even with his chest ravaged by a carving of the seven-pointed star, and bones broken by multiple blunt injuries, Sheriff Hemlock's dead face is completely recognizable.


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Sure...my post was meant to elicit a response from you about any tidbits Rhanloi learns about the mana wastes or Geb to prepare them for their trek. If there is no more info to be learned (because I know zippo about the mana wastes and only what you wrote before about Geb being a land of slavers and necromancers), then I guess we'll acquire some horses and be off...


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Pick:
Pick relaxes somewhat as they go down stairs and with thick walls around them once more. He feels safer beneath the street level. The topsider with the white spiral earns a curious look from Pick, but he's the last person who would offer questions to someone he did not yet know.

Besides, there are other things of note. Pick sucks in a whistling breath through his teeth at the sight of Hem-Lock. Tchaaaa.

He nods a short nod at the female's question, then remembers they like words, so, "Yes. Same symbol."

Pick rocks back and forth on his feet briefly before launching into another staccato explanation that qualifies as many long and troublesome words for him. "Man-- this man is-- from a town.... Sand-point. He was sheriff, called Hem-Lock. Yes? He left Sand-point, and Hammer sent P-- the elder, Lady Hammer, sent me to... find him. Star-men killed him? I must tell Lady Hammer. I must go. Allowed?"

There's a little bit of an urge to bounce on his toes. He found Hem-lock! He did the task he was told to do. And Hem-lock is dead, and he thinks Hammer will be pleased with that. He will bring her good news. He will not be punished, which makes this a very good day.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Flibidnick:
With the go-ahead to begin, Shalelu crouches low and begins to search the surrounding area for tracks. It isn't long, maybe less than five minutes, that she finds something, exclaiming in a whisper and pointing at a bit of muddy ground beneath her feet several meters away. "There. A track."

At her direction, Ameiko walks over and inspects the track, nodding and saying, "Yup. I'd recognize Tsuto's soft, shitty sandals anywhere. That's him. Come, let's go." and with the track's location, the trip begins. It's awfully difficult for Flibble to ride on his roc AND keep an eye on the tracking elf, so he's forced to remain on the forest floor during the trek. Little trouble is to be had during the journey, as the most dangerous creatures in the forest are the goblins, and they had been so thoroughly shamed in the recent battle that goblin activity has hit an all-time low recently. So, for the next three days, Shalelu, Flibble, and Ameiko have an unaccosted journey through the forest.

The third day, though, brings a surprise. The forest thins out, and the trail leads down a hill into a main road - a main road that leads right into the city of Magnimar, the spires and monuments of which are plainly visible from the outskirts of the forest. Returning from her spot several hundred feet ahead, Shalelu looks to Flibble for guidance. "Looks like the tracks lead right to a main road, but that Tsuto's gotten into the city." she says, scratching her head right behind one of her comically-long ears. "I don't think I'll be able to track him any longer. We might have to get to...different tactics of finding him. What should we do?"

Grand Lodge

Male Gnome Sorceror 5 HP 37/37, AC16, F/R/W +4/+3/+5 Init +3

On the road again:
Flibble listens to Shalelu, and takes a puff of his pipe while he thinks. "Well now, lass; I'd say we'd have to gae to Magnimar and find him. We'll ask around, see if anyone has seen him. But ye've done yuir bit; ye needn't join us if ye dinna wannae. On the other hand, ye'd be welcome if ye wanted to come along. 'Tis a long while since I been tae the city, d'ye ken? and 'tis a dangerous place, so the more the merrier if ye're willing."


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

...cue western movie music...:
And so it was that a half-elven mage with an ancient fire burning in his mind, and his human barbarian companion with skin like steel but a broken heart, continued their journey into the mana wastes in search of a lost woman and child. Racing against time, hoping against the odds, they rode out from the magical city and into the rising sun, countless more adventures awaiting them...


Glad to have a pony underneath him again instead of the rolling deck of a ship, Khalbar sets out with Rhanloi across the Mana Wastes for their fateful rendezvous with his lost and stolen family.

He is dressed still in Shoanti fashion and rides with the practiced ease of a trained horseman; his eyes cutting to all directions to scan for danger, as his people were trained to do.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Rhanloi and Khalbar:
It's very, very easy for Rhanloi and Khalbar to acquire some horses (and cheaply, too!), though there are warnings galore if either of them tell anyone that they're about to head into the Mana Wastes.

Unfortunately, it's the only efficient way for Rhanloi and Khalbar to get to Geb, so they ignore the warnings and press on, slowly riding out of the city of Nex the day after they got there, leaving the ship that brought them across so many seas behind. The road is long for the pair of them still, despite the great distances they've already traversed, but the pair are determined.

It only takes two days to exit Nex and reach the Mana Wastes, and as Rhanloi and Khalbar draw near, they truly come to understand why it's called a "waste". Thick black clouds coat the horizon for miles in every direction, broken only in patches where beams of white light shine through, but it looks as though the ground in most of the area hasn't been wetted for years. The soil glows a pale blue in large swatches, which the pair quickly learn to avoid when Rhanloi's boot begins to boil after setting a foot in it. Not only that, but the earth juts up into the sky in tall formations of stone, forming improbable angles with the ground and revealing chasms of pure darkness below.

Still, the Wastes turn out to be (mostly!) a safe place to traverse for a few days, though the going is slow through the uneven and brken ground. Often, the pair have to seek long ways around large blue patches or wide rifts in the earth. Unfortunately, their luck isn't destined to continue forever.

There are stories, told amongst the people of Alkenstar, Geb, and Nex, of the horrors of the Mana Wastes. Unfortunately, no story can really capture the immensity and gravity of a sand kraken erupting from the earth. Tentacles splay, dragging the creature (at least twenty feet long!) towards the two distant, small-town heroes, and a tiny, beaklike mouth writhes with hunger. It must be at least a hundred feet distant, but it closes alarmingly quickly, its body burrowing a dent in the ground.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Pick:
"You wish...to go?" The captain raises an eyebrow at Pick. "Well, of course. Thank you for your help today, it's helped the investigation immensely. However, I have no pull over you. I can't keep you if you want to go, so feel free to leave."

Killian nods at Pick, murmuring, "Thank you for defending me today."

Flibble:
"Of course I'll come." says Shalelu. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you or Ameiko if I left."

She nods at Ameiko, and the Tian woman nods back. They both look to Flibble for direction.

Grand Lodge

Male Gnome Sorceror 5 HP 37/37, AC16, F/R/W +4/+3/+5 Init +3

Retuen to Magnimar:
wending his way to the southern entrance at Castlegate, Flibble leads the two ladies and Sovola into the bustling district of the Marches, where traders and artisans mix. Leading then to a small Inn named the Griffon not far from the Gate, he arranges for Stabling in their surprisingly well stocked Mews for Sovola and a couple of rooms for them to stay in. The proprieter, who apparently Flibble knows from previous trips to Magnimar, proves to be a fine source of Gossip and Flibble starts enquiring about Tsuto while negotiating the price of the rooms.

Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Pick... and optionally Flibble?:
Pick offers several jerky nods to the captain and to Killy An.

"Yes. Must go. Must report." He did what he was told to do, after all. He found Hem-lock.

He pauses another moment before leaving Killy An-- by his words, the man thinks he is still in debt to Pick? Well. If the man says so, then Pick is not going to argue.

"Hmn. Yes. Where is... temple of--" and he points at Killy An's bright little sword-symbol of Iomedae. Because he is curious, so curious. He will see the temple of the goddess that gives the healing, before he goes... and maybe there are more temples, and he will see all the topsider gods, and he will see if there is a temple to-- the Sleeper.

He does not think so. He thinks he is the only one on the whole surface who understands, which simultaneously makes him feel somewhat important but also makes him feel very small and alone.

Presuming Killy An tells him where to find the temple, Pick exits the morgue and stands a moment on the streets. (Left to his own devices, he made no claim on the supposed reward-- truthfully, it's mostly skipped his mind. It was only a means to an end, and the end was finding Hem-lock. Besides, he still has a tenuous grasp on the surface concept of money; it can be traded for things, he understands, but he has yet to develop any real sense of relative value or worth.)

He stands on the street, orienting himself, then sets out to see the temples before he returns to Sand-point.

Flibble, there's a dwarf-like chap familiar to you wandering the city, if we want to converge our courses. ;)


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Call me...Muad'Dib:
Rhanloi spots the giant sand creature rapidly approaching them. "Khalbar, my friend, we have unwelcome company..." he says, pointing off into the distance. He then casts mage armor upon himself in preparation for the probable battle. He will cock his light crossbow and mentally prepare a couple of spells...

First attack
At 140 feet, Rhanloi casts magic missile - causing 2d4 + 2 ⇒ (1, 3) + 2 = 6 points of damage.

Second attack
At 80 feet, Rhanloi fires his light crossbow at the sand kraken.
Ranged attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 2

Third attack
As the creature draws closer (40 feet), Rhanloi unleashes the fire in his mind, casting a scorching ray from his fingers!
Ranged touch attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
Damage: 4d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 3, 2) = 9


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

As Rhanloi takes on the worm from a distance, Khalbar feels his inner rage bubbiling to the surface. By the time the kraken is near, the is full on savage and swings at the beast with reckless abandon.

Greataxe, raging, power attack, reckless abandon: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
Dmg, raging, PA, RA: 1d12 + 15 ⇒ (1) + 15 = 16

A pair of 1's eh? Damn you dice Gods....


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Unfortunately for Rhanloi, when he attempts to cloak himself in force energy to defend himself from the rampaging sand kraken, he feels the magic slip from his control when it leaves his mind.

1d100 ⇒ 11 1d4 ⇒ 4

Instead of a barrier of force surrounding the mage, he loses the spell and the air is filled with strange, monastic chants. Deep male voices fill the air, though there is no choir to be their source. The chants, however, are somewhat invigorating.

Creatures gain a +2 on attack rolls and saving throws because of the music. I'll have a proper combat post up soon enough, but there are a couple of statblocks I need to generate first. React to the fact that your magic doesn't work, though! Also, roll init please.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Rhanloi and Khalbar:
Rhanloi Init: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Khalbar Init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Kraken Init: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
Marines Init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Rhanloi Crossbow #2: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 5 + 2 = 13

Rhanloi's initial spellcasting when he spots the creatures having gone strangely awry, he resorts to his crossbow, firing two bolts into the creature as it approaches. One doesn't seem to penetrate the thing's hide, but the second finds good purchase in the creature, drawing blood.

Khalbar works himself up into a bloodrage as the thing charges, but just as it gets close, it stops moving. It's about twenty feet away, but its tentacles are lashing out of the ground, and they seem long enough to hit either Khalbar or Rhanloi, shredding their skin with cruel-looking barbed pads. It looms high above them, the thing's massive tan bulk bulging with muscle and stomachs.

Just as it draws near, however, from a nearby sandy hillside rise three figures, all clad in tan gillie suits. Two wear studded leather, dashing little berets, and carry large, cylindrical rods of forged steel. They point the cylinders at the approaching creature.

The remaining man wears bulky steel armor that seems articulated by clockwork gears and wires, and held together independently of the man. He holds up two bulky, armored fists at the creature and prepares to charge.

Initiative:

Rhanloi - 19

Kraken - 14 (98/100 hp)

Khalbar - 13

Marines - 9

The Marines

Captain Walthon - 47/47hp (64/64)
Marine 1 - 21/21hp
Marine 2 - 21/21hp

Rhanloi is up first.


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Rhanloi will continue to fire at the sand kraken, not trusting his magic again after the initial short...

Ranged attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 5

"Take care, Khalbar - I do not think I can drag your big @$$ out of that creature's maw!!" he jibes with his friend.


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

"If my ass is in there, yours will be soon to follow, Rhan-Loy! I'll see you inside!" shouts the barbarian from the depths of his rage. He sees the funnily clad men and their metal arms, but doesn't stop to watch.

If still around on my count, continue Rage, with power attack, and reckless abandon.

Greataxe, PA, rage, RA: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31
Dmg, if hit: 1d12 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Flibble:
Unfortunately for Flibble, the inn owner in question knows nothing of Tsuto. In a city of this size, individual faces tend to go unnoticed unless they do something particularly noteworthy in the limelight. Ameiko suggests that Tsuto probably wouldn't brazenly display himself in public, that he's likely in hiding or doing secret, illegal activities, perhaps with the criminal underground or other such unsavory peoples.

Pick:
Killian points Pick in the direction of the temple of Iomedae in the city. All of the city's temples are in one great run, al lon the same street, but Killian opines that the temple of iomedae is the grandest and most beautiful temple in the city.

Arriving on Godsroad, you see that he was perhaps exaggerating a bit. About a half-dozen temples lie on the road, and while the sword-encrusted, martial-looking temple to Iomedae is quite large and grand, it pales in comparison to the temple to Abadar directly adjacent to it, which doubles as a bank and is gilded and silvered all over its entire girth, and its priests wear robes of flashing gold with jewelery everywhere. Unfortunately for Pick, he is unable to find a recognizable temple to "the Sleeper". The surface people have no idea, it seems, of the Sleeper's very existence.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Rhanloi backs up, getting off another good shot on the monstrous beast, as his bolt pierces a tentacle all the way through. The creature, however, barely seems fazed by the injury and slithers forward the last few feet before unleashing an onslaught on Khalbar and Rhanloi with its long, ridiculous tentacles.

It slaps Rhanloi with its tentacles powerfully, the longappendates wrapping around his body and shredding his flesh, and the powerful muscles in the things breaking his bones and sending the fragile half-elven wizard into unconsciousness.

It finds a much more difficult foe in Khalbar, who not only takes the injury that the kraken gives it, but returns exactly as he gets, slashing powerfully into the monstrosity's torso with his greataxe, yelling with rage at his fallen friend.

From the sand behind him, the armored, unarmed human charges the creature, wide-set steel-booted feet clomping on the rough ground as he runs forward. While he runs, the two soldiers behind him open fire, the steel cylinders in their hands booming and flashing with light and smoke.

The creature's flesh recoils a bit into its body as big iron slugs slam into the thing's body, penetrating slightly into the skin. Just after the slugs hit the thing, the marines' captain arrives at the thing's side and slams an armored fist into the thing's body. Squishing sounds are evident from the wound, and the captain is obviously a powerfully strong man.

Kraken's Attack Routine:
Kraken Attack #1, PA, vs. Rhanloi: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (17) + 13 - 3 = 27
Kraken Attack #2, vs. Rhanloi: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (14) + 13 - 3 = 24
Kraken Attack #3, vs. Rhanloi: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (15) + 13 - 3 = 25
Kraken Attack #4, vs. Rhanloi: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (7) + 13 - 3 = 17
Kraken Attack #5, vs. Khalbar: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (9) + 13 - 3 = 19
Kraken Attack #6, vs. Khalbar: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (16) + 13 - 3 = 26
Kraken Attack #7, vs. Khalbar: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (18) + 13 - 3 = 28
Kraken Attack #8, vs. Khalbar: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (15) + 13 - 3 = 25
Kraken Attack #9, vs. Khalbar: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (4) + 13 - 3 = 14
Kraken Attack #10, vs. Khalbar: 1d20 + 13 - 3 ⇒ (18) + 13 - 3 = 28
Damage to Khalbar: 5d4 + 25 ⇒ (2, 3, 2, 2, 4) + 25 = 38
Damage to Rhanloi: 4d4 + 20 ⇒ (2, 4, 3, 3) + 20 = 32

Marine Attack Routine:
Walthon, charge, PA: 1d20 + 15 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 15 - 2 + 2 = 34
Marine 1, firearm: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19
Marine 2, firearm: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Damage from Walthon: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17
Damage from firearms: 2d10 ⇒ (4, 2) = 6

Initiative:

Rhanloi - 19 Rhanloi is down, so I'll need a stabilization check.

Kraken - 14 (52/100 hp)

Khalbar - 13

Marines - 9

The Marines

Captain Walthon - 47/47hp (64/64)
Marine 1 - 21/21hp
Marine 2 - 21/21hp

Khalbar takes 38 damage and Rhanloi takes 32 damage.


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

While it might be wise to drink the cure potion at this point, I don't think the raging barbarian is going to go that route. He's balls to the wall until the fighting ends.

Despite his many wounds and the sound of Rhanloi falling beside him, Khalbar's battlefury drives him to continue the fight until either he or the beast is dead.

He screams out his war-song slashing again and again with his greataxe.

Greataxe, Power Attack, Reckless Abandon, raging: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (7) + 12 = 19
Dmg, PA, RA, rage: 1d12 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27 (max damage!)


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Pick tries to find religion. (tl;dr):
Pick slides his smoked goggles back over his eyes to shield them from the glitz and glitter of Abadar's temple. So briiight.

For an hour or more, the little dwarf-like figure slinks from temple to temple, trying to find something that resonates with him, trying to... understand.

They have songs, the topsiders. Iomedae has songs that are... he doesn't have the words for it, as music is a total unknown to him beyond what he's heard in his time on the surface. But Iomedae's songs have many drums, and pound in his blood, and their words are about old heroes and brave deaths and big wars. He thinks how strange it would be, to be remembered like that... to matter like that, so that even after you were dead people still spoke of you. Strange.

Abadar's songs are a little more comprehensible. They speak of work and trade and prosperity. He understands work, though in his experience there is little gain from it-- you do it because it must be done. If there is gain, it is for the elders...

There are many temples. Desna's-- a small temple compared to the others, a simple building in the shadow of the larger, more grand structures... He remembers the butterflies in Sandpoint: the wash of color that had held him captivated. He lingers by the door, torn, wondering if there are butterflies inside the little building, but he knows there is nothing here for him, not really. He is gray like earth, not many colors like... the loud-one-who-rides-the-bird.

Torag. There are dwarves, and Pick hangs well back from them, because they might know him as an impostor, and that would be bad. He listens to the ringing blows of the great forge-hammer. It is like a twisted mirror of his own world: for the People understand forge-work, yes, and labor, and the heat of the furnace and the air of the bellows... but they work with a Purpose, a terrible and enormous purpose, to keep that which sleeps... asleep. These surfacers are like... children. Playing at creation. Making whatsoever it pleases them. They have no-- no-- guidance.

How strange, to do whatsoever you please with your life, he thinks. To live with no knowledge of the doom beneath your feet.

Uneasily, Pick leaves the Godsroad behind him, seeking to become lost in the smaller, twisting alleys where he feels safe, away from watching eyes and god-songs.

Cities are not quiet places, he is rapidly discovering. Pick wraps his cloak over his head to muffle out some of the endless noise, and he thinks. He thinks a long time about the Sleeper. Maybe he is here, on the surface, for a reason. Maybe he is here to make sure the surface people learn of the threat.

But one can one person do, to make all the world be quiet? He is just one. That is very hard.

And-- a stubborn little voice points out-- the top-siders have been making a lot of noise for many, many years now. Many years. Before Pick was even born. So if they haven't woken the Sleeper yet...

His head hurts. Carts rumble in the streets and animals make noises and people talk, talk, talk, and people stand in the streets to play music for coins and it's all so very loud. Muttering to himself, Pick scales the nearest building, to get away from the street level (even if that puts him close to the awful sensation of the wide-open sky bearing down above him) and lurks up along a rooftop's edge.

So many people, to watch. Soon he must return to Sand-point. Soon. He will watch the people a little longer, first.

(I'm mostly just setting up flavor rp stuff for Pick's eventual dabbling in a divine class. Nothing actually happening of note in this post on my end. Pick is stalling until he can run into Flibble. :P)

Grand Lodge

Male Gnome Sorceror 5 HP 37/37, AC16, F/R/W +4/+3/+5 Init +3

Flibble the Detective:
Flibble spends his time going from Inn to Inn, asking after a new arrival from Sandpoint, following leads, etc. He will take 10 on his Gather Information roll, for a total of 16


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

(-9 HP / 12 CON)
DC 10 Stabilize: 1d20 - 9 + 1 ⇒ (7) - 9 + 1 = -1
(next round -10 HP / 12 CON)


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Rhanloi continues to bleed, getting ever closer to death from his numerous shredded skin wounds, while at the same time, the equally injured Khalbar cleaves deep into the kraken's skin, spilling innards from a deep body shot. In response, though, to the marines' interference, the creature slaps its many tentacles into the marine captain's armor, peeling away several levels of steel and shattering steel gears. Steam spills from the construct's seams.

One of the marines runs forward to Rhanloi's prone form, pulling out multiple bandages and pressing them on the man's bleeding wounds. His efforts seem to be successful, and Rhanloi breathes a little bit easier.

The other marine quickly re-loads his cylinder, pointing it at the kraken again and letting it roar with a resounding boom. Unfortunately, the man only catches one of the kraken's tentacles, doing little actual harm to the beast.

Walthon, meanwhile, grinds his arms back in preparation for a decisive pair of strikes. Steam billows out of the back of the metal monstrosity's elbows and propels the thing's fists with great force. One fist deals great crushing damage to the beast, but the other is blocked by the thing's tough skin.

Fortunately for everybody, the kraken begins to flee at its next opportunity from the group, pushed away by its grievous wounds. As it flees, though, Walthon pursues it and pounds the life out of it, getting it right in the beaky face, fracturing and shattering the thing's "mouth". It slumps to the ground, deflating greatly.

Kraken Attack Routine:
Kraken Attack #1 vs.: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14 Miss.
Kraken Attack #2 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29
Kraken Attack #3 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23
Kraken Attack #4 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23
Kraken Attack #5 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26
Kraken Attack #6 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (5) + 13 = 18 Miss.
Kraken Attack #7 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15 Miss.
Kraken Attack #8 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15 Miss.
Kraken Attack #9 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21
Kraken Attack #10 vs. Walthon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17 Miss.
Damage to Walthon's Golem: 5d4 + 25 ⇒ (2, 1, 1, 4, 3) + 25 = 36

Marines' Rolls:
Marine 1 Heal (DC 15): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
Marine 2 Attack: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 5 + 2 = 10
Walthon Attack #1, PA: 1d20 + 15 - 2 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 15 - 2 - 2 + 2 = 33
Walthon Attack #2, PA: 1d20 + 15 - 2 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 15 - 2 - 2 + 2 = 18
Walthon Attack #1 Crit Confirm: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14
Walthon Damage: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 19
Musket Damage: 1d10 ⇒ 1
Walthon AoO, PA: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30
Damage: 1d8 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17

The Marines

Captain Walthon - 47/47hp (28/64)
Marine 1 - 21/21hp
Marine 2 - 21/21hp

Combat over!


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Whether the marines see them, or Rhanloi regains consciousness long enough to take them, he will down his 2 potions of cure light wounds to stop the bleeding and regain some of his health before moving on. Infections and moving an injured person are just as dangerous as the wounds themselves!

2d8 + 2 ⇒ (2, 8) + 2 = 12 Rhanloi at 2 of 23 HP


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

You don't regain consciousness when you stabilize, you're just no longer dying. Someone else (READ: Khalbar) will have to do that for you, though I'll let them use the rolls.


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

Khalbar is fatigued by the rage he felt during the battle, rushes to the side of his fallen comrade, nearly falling right alongside him. Fumbling around in Rhanloi's gear, he pulls out two potions, hoping they are the right kind, and pours them into the unconscious wizard's mouth.

Praying silently to Dez-Na, Khalbar waits for the potions to take effect, and relief floods him when Rhanloi returns to consciousness talking about the kraken as though he had never fallen.

Khalbar then sits, bone-tired, on the ground for serveral seconds, too wobbly-legged to move well with the after-effects of combat and adrenaline.


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Pick and Flibble:
Flibble has, in his journeys from inn to inn, acquired a shadow.

Stealth: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14

(...though kind of a crappy shadow.)

Pick trails the colorful and loud figure of the little one with his brows furrowed in dismay and fists clenched. Why is HE here? Did Hammer decide he had failed in his task?! Did Hammer send HIM instead? But he didn't fail! He did what he was told! It's not-- it's not fair (what a strange word).

Unhappiness makes him clumsier than he'd like, maybe. He stomps after Flibble until he's close enough to roughly poke the little, colorful figure in the small of the back.

"Why here?"


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Back from the brink:
As Rhanloi regains consciousness, he looks around to see the corpse of the sand kraken, his friend Khalbar, and the marines nearby. "Khalbar - you look about as bad as I feel. I take it you smashed the thing, then? You're not looking to well - here, I have...oh...it appears they have already been used..." he says as he discovers the empty vials where his healing potions once were. "Maybe I can help bandage your wounds and we can find a place to camp and recover."

To the marines, he says, "Thank you for your assistance with that creature! Your armor is truly amazing - I would like an opportunity to study it and perhaps talk with you about it. As you can see we are gravely injured and need to find a place to recover - do you know of a camp or safe place we can stay for a few days?"

Grand Lodge

Male Gnome Sorceror 5 HP 37/37, AC16, F/R/W +4/+3/+5 Init +3

Well met in Magnimar:
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 Flibble is so intent on his quest that he misses the shadow following him until someone pokes him in the back and a familiar voice asks petulantly, "why here?".
Flibble turns and grins in recognition, "Well, if it isn't Pick-yuir-nose! I wondered where ye'd wandered off to. Dinna Fash, laddie, I'm looking for Tsuto, it appears he's gone to ground in Magnimar. Ameiko wants to ask him some questions, so she's come, along with Shalelu. Did ye have any luck wi' finding Sheriff Hemlock?"


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Scowling at you in Magnimar:
Pick scowls into Flibble's perpetually cheery face as the stream of noise washes over him. Stupid words. Stupid loud-one, coming to steal his task...

Some of his annoyance eases when Flibidnick says he isn't here for Hem-lock after all. Well. That's... alright then, he guesses. Pick grunts.

"Dead," he says as his one-word answer to the status of Sheriff Hemlock. "Tsuto here? Hnh. Cult. Come. Too many watchers. Inside."

He tries to tug Flibble back inside the inn he just came out of.

Grand Lodge

Male Gnome Sorceror 5 HP 37/37, AC16, F/R/W +4/+3/+5 Init +3

Grinning back in Magnimar:
Somewhat bemused, Flibble follows Pick into the Inn, biting his tongue on all his questions. It seems that Pick thinks he is being watched, and is being cautious. Or maybe he is just being Pick. Deciding that discretion might be wise, he starts some inane chatter while speaking to Pick using Drow sign language.
"So, have you heard anything from Rhanloi or Khalbar? They were supposed to be going through Magnimar on the way to wherever they were going. Where are you staying? or have you found some hidey hole to sleep in? When will you get civilized?"
in Drow sign language"Report. Hem-lock dead? Cult? How many?"


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Flibbick:
There is a small, measured nod of approval when Flibble uses the Silent Speech, and covers it with topsider words. Perhaps the loud one is wiser than he has thought.

Aloud, Pick mostly just grunts. "No. Stay where... quiet..."

His hands tell a different, and longer, story. (Well, the full nuances of his delivery may be lost, but...)

"I found no trace of Hem-lock in the first. But the guardians of this place have been seeking killers. I assisted in this. A dead man was carved with the mark of seven points that is known to us. Two of his killers prepared ambush. I defeated these. A guardian assisted. We took these killers to the guardian's elder. There, I made report. They took me to the place they hold their dead. Hem-lock was there, dead, also carved with the seven-mark. These killers are with Tsuto? It is possible. I perceive I am watched, outside. Two killers caught: I do not know how many remain."


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Rhanloi and Khalbar:
Gasping his way into consciousness after Khalbar shoves the healing potions into his throat, Rhanloi's immediate inquiry is answered by the apparent leader of their three helpers. Pieces of plate are missing from the front of his armor, and it steams from its joints as he turns. "Thanks." he says, "We get them shipped in at home in Alkenstar. What are you two doing wandering the Wastes all by yourselves? Get yourselves killed, you will."

"We have a camp nearby, but where are you headed?"


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Truth or Dare?:
Rhanloi looks at Khalbar to see what his reaction is to the question. While they do not know who these men are, they did help them and Rhanloi had always been one to trust first until someone proves they are untrustworthy.

"We are headed to Geb, to try and find my companion's wife and child who were stolen away and enslaved. We have only hint of a story but we must follow it...even through the mana wastes."


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

Khalbar grunts in agreement at the strange soldiers. "Did not take us long to get into trouble, but we must go on. Thank you for your aid."


Human Monk 5 [ HP: 48/48 | AC: 16 | T: 16 | FF: 13 | CMB: 9 / CMD: 23 | Fort +7 / Ref +6 / Will +3 | Init +4 / Percept +10 ]

More than a month since I posted, wtf. Okay, let's see about getting back in the zone.

Kyra the Doubtful:
In the days after the speech, Kyra forgets a few times, though not for long, about the campaign. It brings a sense of peace to her mind, to have solitary tasks that must be completed. While Scarnetti has meetings asking what he people want done, Kyra sweeps through the town like a tornado, (making it a point at least once to complete the building's repairs while he's still discussing it.)

Walking along the beach one evening, remembering the campaign, her mind fills with turmoil. There was truth, she knew, to what the little Gnome had said. Scarnetti was suited to meetings and planning and administrative rubbish, and didn't she leave Korvosa to get away from all that? Her family's scheming was always enjoyable, but there were such delays in their plans thanks to red tape. Would she really be a part of that system?

Looking around at the town, Kyra had doubts. She knew what her kin would do with such a place - in no time it would be bustling with smugglers and other lawless peasants. Building wealth, building power. The kind of power that Scarnetti had. Was that what she wanted, after how far she'd come?

'I could let him have it,' she thought. Hemlock still had not been heard from, and there would be need of a Sheriff. Deep down, she knew that that would not satisfy her, though. Taking orders from Scarnetti would be an insult - even if they both knew that she let him win. No, that wouldn't do.

Turning to look at the ocean, she let out a sigh, thinking that any one of the other Goblin Slayers would surely know what to do.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Rhanloi and Khalbar:
"An unlikely trail, looking for a lost loved one." muses the armored captain, crossing his steam-powered arms.

"You shouldn't have come here without a guide, or a caravan." he says, looking critically at the two of them. "But we can escort you through to the borders of Geb, if you want. We're merely patrolling for strays and lost beasts, and I don't think you want to go through Alkenstar on the way. You'll want to hurry, yeah?"

He looks to his men, who nod silent approval. "So, what do you say? Promise not to get us killed by smelling so delicious?"

Just want to hand out a quick reminder to Flibble - taking 10 or taking 20 requires ten or twenty times the time required normally for the task. Thus, taking ten on a gather information check requires 10d4 hours of work. That's an average of 25 hours, which would take more than three full days.


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Taking 10/Taking 20:
Technically, by RAW: no, not really. Yes, taking 20 assumes you are spending 20x the amount of time necessary, and spells that out specifically under taking 20. However, taking 10 contains no such text: it's simply a way you can do a 'routine' check without getting a great result, but without the risk of a bad result, either. But nothing in the rules states that it takes longer than a normal check.

Taking 10/Taking 20, by RAW

I only felt the need to point this out because I just got into a debate about it at my local PFS, haha. As always, if you're ruling it differently in your game, Leinathan, that's fine-- not trying to step on your toes. Just that I see the "take 10 = more time" a lot from players when it's not actually in the rules at all.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

OH! I totally didn't know that, thank you for pointing it out. I saw the rules about taking 20 and assumed it was the same for taking 10.


Male Half-Elven Wizard-5 | AC 13 (17 w/mage armor) T 13 FF 10 | HP 24/29 | F +3 R +5 W +6 | CMB+1 CMD=14 l Init +9 | Perc +6 l Status: Normal

Deal!:
"It's a deal, good captain. We didn't know caravans crossed the wastes, or we would have joined one! I'm sure we can find some way to thank you for your help!" Rhanloi says.

Over the next few days, Rhanloi examines the armor, but he has no training in engineering principles and thus its working are completely bewildering to him. He does, however, look for a way to attach his wand of magic missiles to the captain's right forearm, so that when he points and utters the command word, he can shoot targets at range!

Kn (Arcana): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21

Grand Lodge

Male Gnome Sorceror 5 HP 37/37, AC16, F/R/W +4/+3/+5 Init +3

Well, Flibble's here for however long it takes. If that's 3 days, so be it; I kind of assumed it would be measured in days anyway unless something cropped up. Since he's met with Pick, perhaps Pick can help him (or he can help Pick) or perhaps something else will intervene.


What? Half-Elf Writer 1 / Dancer 1 / Chemist 1

Flibble:
Unfortunately for Flibble, his investigations reveal to him very little fruit. He does hear a few rumours from a few people, explaining that that have seen a Tian man (not a trader on the sea) around the city recently, and how unusual that is. On the other hand, he is unable to get any really precise information about where he might be, only that he's been sighted with...shady, criminal types.

Rhanloi and Khalbar:
The Alkenstar marines make good on their promise to take Rhanloi and Khalbar to the border of the Mana Wastes, though on the way, Captain Walthon stops Rhanloi from attaching the wand to his arm-piece. He explains that it, most likely, won't work most of the time. "See," he says, "The Mana Wastes were created when the ancient archmages Nex and Geb fired intensely powerful spells at each others' kingdoms, for years and years and years. Because of the intense magical energies expended here, the area is variably depleted or wild. Magic never does what it's expected to do here, when it works at all."

True to his word, though, he does deliver the pair to the edge of the Wastes. Stretching out before them are miles and miles and miles of verdant, green land, lush with colour and life, though no settlements can be seen from here.

The captain and his men take leave of the pair here, stating that they're headed back to the city to give their report.

One of the pieces of information that Khalbar had received, back in the city of Kaer Maga, was the name of the farm that his family had been sent to. With that to go on, the pair ventured farther into the country of Geb, to find a settlement. Within a couple of days they saw something cresting the horizon. Upon closer inspection a few more miles in, it appears to be a bustling trade town on the shores of a wide, slow river. Perhaps two thousand people might dwell here, and it's bordered on all sides by wide, expansive farms.


Male Human Barbarian 2 HP: 14/35 (41) | AC 16 (14) | T 12 | FF 14 | CMD 19 (17) CMB +7 (+9) | F +6 | R +3 | W +1 (+3) | Init +2 | Per +5

Glad to be out of the emptiness of the Wastes, and hopeful that this place may be the right town, Khalbar leads Rhanloi to the yard of one of the expansive farms.

"Ask them town name, Rhanloi. You speak beter than I do..."


Dwarf Investigator 4 - AC 17 T12 FF 15 - HP 31/31 - F+3** R+7* W+6* - Init +2, Per +13*, darkvision

Pick stolidly stares at Flibble, to judge the gnome's reactions to his words of the news of Hem-lock's death.

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