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Nevis Lodge: First Steps, Part 3 - A Vision of Betrayal

Game Master Paizo Fan


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Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

The IC thread for First Steps, Part 3 as played by the Nevis Lodge!

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

Targ sits back and relaxed in the Pathfinder Lodge.

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

Bedmyr relaxes in the Absalom Lodge, awaiting his next mission. No one sits near him, due to the pervasive odour of gunpowder that seems to hang around him like an aura.

"Targ, isn't it?" he bellows across the room.

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

Targ turns as his name is shout out by the dwarf, "that's right, a bit astonished that he knows his name, "so whom I have the honour to deal with?" He asks, heading over to great the dwarf.

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

"Bedmyr Thunderbeard," the dwarf replies, indicating towards an empty seat, "Heard you were out at Asad's Keep. Nasty business that."

Qadira

Crar wanders in. The strange shaman seems to have festooned himself with even more feathers than before - eagle feathers, mostly - looking more bird-like than ever. Inured to "civilized" people's stares, the half-elf looks around and noticing Targ, heads over to chat. "Hello! Who is your new friend?" he says as he ruffles himself and sits down and takes in the dwarf.

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

Bedmyr looks at the bird man with a raised eyebrow but used to the stares of people himself, he doesn't look for too long.

"Bedmyr Thunderbeard, gunslinger and Pathfinder," he replies before Targ can get a word in. "And who might you be?"

Sczarni

Ranger 1 10/11 HP

Latharel meets the others and has a drink.

Taldor

In the courtyard of the lodge, a young man enters his neatly cut black hair and grey eyes survey those talking and drinking. A busnes like voice full of authority speaks, "Bedmyr Thunderbeard, Crar of the Savage Lands, Latharel the Lost, Lillia Stetven and Targ Boneslicer please follow me, your presence is required." He turns swiftly, his purple cloak flies round on a shaft of air as he starts out of the door leading though the Lodge.

In the heart of the Pathfinder Society’s headquarters at Skyreach, Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng, a wiry old man with a wild gray beard and glinting eyes, sits on a large plush bench next to a finely dressed, full-figured woman who looks as though this entire meeting isn’t worth her time. Dreng warmly greets you and introduces you to the woman,Lady Gloriana Morilla; the Taldan woman tilts her head slightly in acknowledgement of the introduction, but otherwise makes no move to greet anyone. Oblivious to any social slight on the lady’s part, Dreng starts to talk to you all, "Recently, a contact from the Low Azlanti embassy in Escadar approached us with an offer. It seems they have discovered a unique relic of Azlanti origin on the Inner Sea’s floor that we have a unique opportunity to add to our collection for study. In return, however, we must deliver one of our catalogued items to Escadar in exchange. The Low Azlanti drive a hard bargain, so we need you to escort a relics broker to Escadar so he can authenticate the Azlanti item and mediate a fair deal on the Ten’s behalf."

He stops momentarily to draw breath and wait for any immediate questions, before continuing, "Of course life is never so simple, for we are not the only ones who seek this relic. Our agents have told us that the Aspis Consortium has also tendered an offer, and the gillmen have decided to accept the Consortium’s deal if the Society cannot finalize its agreement within 30 days. An Aspis-funded warship patrols the waters just beyond Absalom’s harbor, preventing our agents from sailing to Escadar unmolested. However with Lady Morilla's help we have already set in motion a plan which will allow us fulfill our obligation to the gillmen and now we hope you will step up to take on the next part of the plan.". He coughs and takes a goblet full of water, to wet his lips and help his speech.

During the pause Lady Morilla stirs from her silence and speaks in a strong, demanding voice. “I have used some of the Empire of Taldor’s most skilled operatives to plant a false crew manifest and course plans with the harbormaster, ensuring that the Aspis Consortium spies who certainly keep an eye on such matters believe we are moving our relic to Escadar on a ship tomorrow morning. This decoy should occupy the Consortium sufficiently for you to travel overland to Escadar with plenty of time to make the final agreement with the gillmen before the Society’s window of opportunity runs out.”

Dreng laughs to himself absent mindedly, before catching himself and turning to you again continues. "So you are to go to the Puddles District and meet up with one of the Society's allies, information broker Grandmaster Torch, who will provide you with a map for the smuggler's trail through the island's centre. This trail should be relatively easy, but more importantly allow you to travel secretly to Escadar, out of the eyes of the Consortium. Once you have the map, we will arrange for our hired item appraiser and relics broker Nester Rees to join you. Nester will verify the authenticity of the gillmen’s relic." He stops to sip some more water, looking at each of you in turn, as though reading your understanding of what's being asked. He continues, "I have arranged for you all to stay at the tavern called, 'Grindylow’s Goblet' in Escadar, where a meeting has been arranged with the gillmen. Send word to the Low Azlanti embassy, so Master Rees can conduct the negotiations at the tavern on the Society’s behalf."

He draws a deep breath, before raising his voice slightly he says, "So that's it, surely a task easy enough for talented pathfinders like yourselves. You are given the responsibility for Rees’ safety and for the success of his negotiations. You just need to look after him and bring him back safely, after the conclusion of the negotiations with the artifact. Is that clear enough for you? Any questions?"

Sczarni

Ranger 1 10/11 HP

Latharel turns towards Dreng - ignoring the arrogant Taldan lady

"What dangers should we expect on the path. I'm much more used to the city live and dislike to stumble upon some monster just because I'm not aware I did encroach on it's terrain."

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

Bedmyr blows air through his mustache, and scratches his beard.

"Sounds easy enough," the Dwarf says with a nod, "If we come across any o' tha Aspis lot, do we jus' off 'em to make life easier?"

Qadira

During the round of drinks: Crar finds the dwarf interesting; he has not met a dwarf like him before. "Well met, Bedmyr. What you have there, are those, what do you call them....pisties? How do they work?"

During the briefing: "We shall do our best. Latharel, don't worry. I know about survival in the wilds, and hopefully we'll see any creatures before they see us."

Taldor

Dreng chuckles to himself, "What dangers? Hah! Nothing you will be afeared of that's for sure, the odd animal or vermin, nothing to worry about. Why I'm sure even the intelligent creatures would do well to steer clear of you, a goblin maybe, nothing much!" His eyes are almost in tears, not from sadness but from the laughter. "As for the Aspis Consortium they will be by far our greatest challenge. I hope you are ready for that. If you meet them, use as much force as you require to keep the mission safe. If they want to talk, then talk, but if they interfere with our deal in any way, I authorize --- and encourage --- the use of deadly force."

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

"Will do that," Targ responds. "Alright, see Grandmaster Torch then?"

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

Earlier:
"Pistols, lad," Bedmyr replies, "Yeh pull tha trigger an' it ignites tha powder and shoots a small lead ball at whatever yeh're pointin' it at. Not as fancy lookin' as magic, but gets tha job done."

With Dreng:
"Deadleh force, got yeh," the Dwarf drawls, "Nice to have tha authorisation fer that too."

Grand Lodge

Female Human Witch 1

Lillia, seeming lost to a daydream as the conversation takes place around her, suddenly snaps to attention, her gaze flickering quickly between the Taldan noblewoman and Drandle Dreng as her mind quickly catches up to her surroundings.

"Um, if you don't mind my asking, Venture-captain," Lillia asks hesitantly, "what exactly are the artefacts involved... the one we're retrieving, and the one we're trading away, I mean."

Qadira

Crar echoes Lillia's request: "That's a good question Lillia. We want to make sure the items aren't going to blow up in our faces, and the better we understand our mission the better we might be able to anticipate ways that the Consortium might try to interfere." The half-elf bobs his head, looking at the others in the room.

Taldor

Dreng scratches his chin, raising an eyebrow, “Well.... The relic we are giving up seems to be part of a collective, or perhaps a fragment of a larger object. Without its companion pieces it is worthless and without power. As for the Low Azlantis’ relic, I am not entirely sure, but our diviners believe obtaining it is in our best interest. Nester Rees will be able to discover any dangers with the relic held by the gillmen, he's a knowledgeable man.”

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Elf Druid (Eagle Shaman)/2

Ha, just remembered I have an avatar picture for Crar; must remember to use it!

"Well, we'll just have to see what we find. When can we start?"

Grand Lodge

Female Human Witch 1

"Fair enough," Lillia nods amiably, "if it's doing us no good to hold on to it, we might as well trade it for something that's more interesting."

Taldor

A smile comes across Dreng's face as he turns to nod at Lady Glorianna. He turns back to you as is just about to speak, when you hear a cough from the woman. It is not the sound of illness, but a calling for attention. Lady Glorianna starts to stand up and reaches her arm out expectantly for assistance from one of the young novice Pathfinders.

1st Pathfinder to help Lady Glorianna:

As you give Lady Glorianna your hand, to help her rise you find as you pull your hand away, you hold a small piece of paper given to you by the noblewoman. The Note.

After the interruption, Dreng continues, "Good Luck and all speed, I know this will prove an easy assignment for a group such as yourselves. Grandmaster Torch awaits you, Goodbye." The Lady Glorianna makes a small formal curtsy and nods her best wishes to you as they both leave you to start the mission.

Grand Lodge

Female Human Witch 1

Lillia sees the Lady Glorianna beckoning for assistance, though rather than moving to help her up, the scarred young woman looks expectantly to the gentlemen in the group.

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Elf Druid (Eagle Shaman)/2

Growing up in wild northern lands, Crar is still unused to the social niceties of "civilized" society, so at first mistakes the lady's quiet cough for choking. He rises to help her, then realizes she is unwell and infirm and requires assistance. Already standing, he helps her to her feet anyway, giving her a healthy clap on the back for good measure. He is rather surprised then to find the lady deftly slips a small note into his palm. He resolves to read it once the group has finished its briefing and are away from prying eyes. What could this be, I wonder?

Once the group is on its own, Crar will share the note with the rest of the party, and argues that this is an opportunity to establish a reputation within the Pathfinders, and wonders whether there may be a conspiracy going on here - "Why did Lady Morilla not take this request to Master Dreng or the Decemvirate? Perhaps she doesn't trust them?"

Grand Lodge

Latharel watches with interest the behaviour of the lady. An arrogant elf wouldn't have managed it better. But he only watches without taking action - smiling about Crar falling clumsily for it.

"Yes - let's be on our way."

Taldor

Where next? Doing anything on the way, your chance to buy things if you want? Roll local knowledge?

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

"Alright then, Grandmaster Torch?!" Targ suggests, ready to move on.

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

Bedmyr scratches his beard. "Yeh, sounds like a plan."

Taldor

DM:

Knowledge Local 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15

You follow Latherel as he leads you through Absalom towards one of the unsavory districts, 'The Puddles'. Here the filth of human living floats as streams of refuse and sewage along the streets. Unlike some of the other areas, this stench of a stream does not keep to the narrow drains along the centre of the roads, but blossoms and lies in great puddles and lakes of foul waters that stretch across the whole street. You continue on, as eyes watch you from the dark recesses of doors and alleys. Unskilled fingers reach for you, seeking a coin or other item to barter, you bat these fingers away as a cows tail would swish lazily to discourage the flies and mosquitoes that crowd round its body. Eventually, a black hole ahead with a rusty iron grate barring all but the river of sewage looks to prevent your further passage. As you approach, it is apparent that the grate does not stop your progress, but is just a portal to the tunnels beyond, where the blackness is broken by torches held on sconces along the walls. As you enter, Latheral turns to you and says "We'll be there soon."

You follow the tunnel down, following the lights through several twists and turns deeper underground, then suddenly you turn a corner and stare straight into the eyes of an armored half-orc. He stands straight, puffing out his chest. Two yellowing and blackened tusks protude from his lips, his eyes bore into you, and a gruff voice barks a single word, "And?"

Grand Lodge

Female Human Witch 1

"Taldan's do enjoy their intrigue," Lillia comments in response to Crar as they make their way through the streets, "she probably just likes the idea of getting something past Venture-Captain Dreng, while giving off an air of mystery."

---

Lillia wrinkles her nose in distaste as the group make their way through the throng of people and filth; despite growing up in Absalom, she still avoids The Puddles whenever possible, and knowing its reputation, she keeps a suspicious eye on the reaching hands.

"And what?" She asks back to the half-orc curtly, "we're here to see the Grandmaster."

Qadira

Crar is aghast at the human filth crowding the Puddles district. As the hands reach out to him, he keeps checking to make sure he hasn't been pickpocketed. The miserable people serve to remind him the need to become a powerful adventurer and Pathfinder: failure might mean ending up here!

As they arrive at the tunnel, Crar comments "I wonder what type of man Grandmaster Torch is, to live in a place like this?"

Sczarni

Ranger 1 10/11 HP

"Don't give them any money. It is like slathering honey on your skin and walk into a mosquito infested jungle."

Taldor

The large guard looks all of you over, up and down, a smile creeps across his weathered battleworn face. "Why see GrandMaster Torch? .... You?" He flexes his fingers, before crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. His biceps ripple, strength personified, armored and armed, his confidence in his abilities is manifest. He is relaxed as he speaks, with his body protected by a chain shirt and a well used orc double axe resting within easy reach. He repeats his last question, "You?"

If you want to roll a sense motive, please do?

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

Targ steps froward, "we are here to see Grandmaster Torch on behlaf of the Pathfinder Society. And if you don't let us though we will get you reported to the higher ups and Grandmaster Torch will probably very unhappy about you."

Sense motive 1d20 ⇒ 19
Intimidate 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
maybe an asssit?

Taldor

SenseMotive DC=15:

You get the feeling that the orc feels that swatting you all away is too easy and won't be much fun, but he'll do it if he has to, it's his duty after all. He is quite used to protecting Grandmaster Torch from general riff-raff that come unannounced. To him you are just riff-raff disturbing his boss, Grandmaster Torch.

The half-orc tries to hold back a laugh at the threat from Targ, but something in Targ's tone seems to get to the half-orc. He cocks his head to one side, re-appraising the group, then nods thinking to himself. "Pathfinders? Who sent you?" his tone a little more conciliatory. All the whilst you feet get cold and damp in the dirty water running through the sewer, as more water seeps and drips from the walls.

You tell him who sent you:

"Why didn't you say, Grandmaster Torch is waiting."
...to be continued in my next post.

You don't tell him:

He appears to be getting a little bored of your games and annoyed that you seem so secretive. He bends and picks up the axe into his hands and pulls it across his chest, a barrier to any forward progress. His the sturdy brown leather boot on his right foot taps and splashes the dirty water running through the sewers, as he awaits your reply, "Last chance who sent you or begone!"

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

"Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng," Targ responds.

Taldor

All please read appropriate spoilers.

The gruff half-orc guard turns and pushes a strengthened oak door open and beckons you to follow. You enter large stone room that is completely dry, the water splashing up to the doors frame and turning away, running anywhere but into the room. Even your boots and shoes are dry, the water no longer dripping from their soles. The air is warm, with no hint of humidity or airborne moisture, an extraordinarily light, clean and comfortable environment amidst the dark, filth and damp of the sewer serving 'The Siphons'. Torch, a dark-haired, burn-covered man in his late-middle years sits in a large bathtub, and two attendants continually pour cool water over his cursed, festering wounds.

The half-orc guard, who let you in watches you closely as Torch speaks. "Well met, Pathfinders. I see you have survived as the Decemvirate’s pawns thus far, and for that I commend you. This next task they have for you is more dangerous than the venture-captain may have told you, so let me give you a word of warning. I have made it my life’s work to ensure Pathfinder agents are given all the tools they need to return home from their myriad adventures, and this map is the tool I give you. Follow the directions on my map as strictly as you can. Deviate from this path and you may encounter challenges far beyond your abilities. Many would paint me and those who believe like I do as betrayers of the Society, but it is the corps of the organization that I am completely loyal to. Each and every one of you."

“If you believe you have been mistreated by the Ten or their representatives, don’t hesitate to let me know upon your return from Escadar. My network of agents and spies is vast and I am a powerful ally to have on your side."

”Now be off. You have a long journey ahead of you. And remember, don’t deviate from this map—it’s designed to get you there and back safely!”

"Questions?"

He leans over from the bath and points to a parchment on the desk, with a nod to the half-orc guard, walks over to pick it up before he offers the map to you.

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

Targ has a look at the map and seems a bit concerned. "Mountains - anything to look out for? Like avalanches and such? Or any creatures that roam the area?

Grand Lodge

Female Human Witch 1

"I'm hardly an expert," Lillia speaks softly, looking at the map with a dubious eye, "so hopefully someone else will be able to make more sense of this than I can, but there doesn't seem to be any landmarks or a scale on this map. I'm having a hard time seeing how we can follow it in anything but the most general of terms... sticking close to a particular path might be tricky."

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Elf Druid (Eagle Shaman)/2

Grandmaster Torch's wounds concern Crar. "Sir, are you alright? Perhaps I can help to ease your pain. I have some small experience in healing." Crar does his best to look friendly.
Heal 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
Diplomacy 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
Woohoo! Best skill checks ever!

At Lillian's comment, "Perhaps once we are on our way the path will become more apparent."

Taldor

Grandmaster Torch nods to his servants as Crar approaches his bath, "Friend, I hope you will afford such consideration to your fellow pathfinders, for they will need your services in the months and years ahead." As Crar gets close enough, he sees his body covered with blisters and burns, his skin brown yellow blothes, seeping and discoloured, yet these are not like any burns he has seen before. As one patch of skin is recovering and the sore become a scab, another patch of skin reddens and is starting to blister. Crar's face concentrates on Grandmaster Torch's ailment, quickly realizing that the affliction was far beyond his meager skills, beyond his mastering of the magiks of the wild. Crar withdraws, nodding somberly as the Grandmaster nods and his assistants return, pouring soothing crystal cool water over his sores.

He turns to you all, "Well, as for what you will face, I leave that for you to prepare for. As you can see, I haven't traveled for a while, and then only within the confines of Absalom. But as for the map, the path is around 120 miles in length, just as our island Kortos. The passes through the mountain are safe enough, well safe enough to travel with goods and chattels without harm otherwise it would not be used to smuggle rare objects in and out of Absalom." he chuckles as he speaks, "but that is not to say there won't be dangers along the way. Inhabitants of the mountains, whose dislike of ourselves and the races of good souls are present and as such an attack is never unexpected. But as for precise dangers, those I cannot say."

"But mountains are just one hazard, be prepared for more. Past the mountains there are natural hazards which cannot be avoided, the bogs of the sunken lands. You must also be on your guard, in case the Aspis Consortium operatives are aware of your journey, for although only very few know of its planning, one cannot be too careful. As you see, this journey isn't quite as easy as your society venture-captains would have you believe."

"Prepare yourselves well, I suggest you depart tomorrow. Tonight I have arranged for you to stay at the Crooked Shield Inn. I am sure Nester Rees, whose safe keeping you are charged with, will join you soon. My friend Harvak will direct you to the Inn, if you aren't sure of it's location. So my friends, may luck and Desna guide you and keep you safe." With a florish, his hand rises into the air, twists and waves in small circles signifying the end of the audience.

The half-orc nods, "Yes Grandmaster, you friends will be escorted,"

Last chance for shopping and preparation.

Grand Lodge

Dwarf Gunslinger 1 | HP: 13/13 | Fort +4, Ref +6, Will +3 | AC 17 (14 ff, 13 t) | Init +3, Perc +7

Bedmyr gives the half-off 'the eye' as he hustles past, harrumphing at all the intrigue. His eyes widen when he sees the state of Grandmaster Torch and spends much of the time wondering what on Golarion the man did to have that happen to him.

"What kind o' man is this Nestor Rees? Can 'e be trusted?"

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

Targ shrugs, "hope so."

let's get some winter clothing (cold weaather outfit)

Taldor

Targ Boneslicer wrote:

Targ shrugs, "hope so."

let's get some winter clothing (cold weaather outfit)

Unless you want to role play the shopping, just put your requests for shopping in the discussion thread, where they will either be approved or not.

Overhearing Bedmyr's words, the half-orc shrugs, "Never heard of him, must be one of Dreng's associates."

Qadira

Crar is shocked and concerned at the extent of Torch's ailments. "You are correct. I think this is beyond even the best of my skills. How did this come about? If we ever come across anything that would aid you, we will return with it."

Walking to the Crooked Shield Inn, the half-elf considers Bedmyr's question. "Don't know; should be enough of us to keep an eye on him."

Taldor

As the evening approaches and you are walking through a street bazaar, although just a small street in Absalom, its sights and sounds are rich in the colors of trade. You smell the fragrant perfume of freshly cut flowers mingled with the sweet odour of spices, their colors, rich orches, mellow yellows and vibrant green of thyme and other herbs. The sound of bartering, the feeling that all of the world is here trading their wares, smoke from cooking fires, pancakes of cheese and chopped meat. Yet despite all this activity and bustle of humanity the hairs on the backs of your neck bristle. You feel an uncomfortable sensation, you feel eyes are looking at you, observing and judging you. You stop and look around.

From out of the corner of the market, a man of Garundi descent walks towards you, he holds in his right hand an ornate cane, its handle of a metal of a golden hue is shaped as a cobra's head. The cane a reminder of his background in the land of Osirion, a mysterious and ancient land with many treasures, or so the rumors say. As the man gets closer, it is obvious he needs the walking stick to help him walk, as his limp is more pronounced now. He holds out his left hand as he reaches you, "Friends, Nester Rees, I believe you were expecting me? Good to meet you at last. Shall we take refreshments, somewhere private?"

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Elf Druid (Eagle Shaman)/2

Crar looks closely at Nester Rees as he introduces himself, then turns to scan the crowds and surroundings. Just to make sure the group isn't being watched by anyone else. "I agree. Let's go inside somewhere."

Perception check 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Grand Lodge

Female Human Witch 1

"I imagine we can arrange a booth at an inn," Lillia says by way of greeting, looking around to gauge the best route back to the Crooked Shield.

Taldor

The group and Nester Rees wander slowly back to the Crooked Inn, talking and introducing themselves. The group enters and finds a booth to the side of the busy Inn, filling up with a cross section of 'Puddles' drinkers. In the gloomy booth, a brass oil light burns, but seems to be sending more dark smoke upwards than spread its light. Nester seems less than comfortable in these surroundings. "Well, if we must? A glass of fine wine, probably the finest they have." he says looking down his nose at the surroundings in the Inn. "So as not to encourage suspicious eyes noticing our departure, I'd rather leave in the general bustle and hustle of the gates, say 11 o'clock at the northern gate. I'll be bringing the exchange item, so you won't have to worry about getting that from the Lodge. The Pathfinders and I have worked together many times since I gave up my days of adventuring to concentrate on commerce. The Lodge have always appreciated an educated eye to evaluate their finds, so sometimes they call on me, especially if its so be done quietly." He lets you all take in his words, continuing "I suggest we travel light across the island, to aid our journey. Are we agreed?"

Any questions for Nester?

Sczarni

male Human Ninja (Scout) 2

"Alright for me," Targ responds.

no more questions

Sczarni

Ranger 1 10/11 HP

"How heavy is the item - no we need a pack horse or are better on our own feet?"

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