DM Deevor |
The whistling stops, in its place a chanting starts in a strange language. Interspersed with the chants are spoken words, it all seems rather strange, even stranger is the white flash of bones that passes by the periphery of your vision.
"Well my little ones, we'll protect you, we'll not let any vicious travelers squash and destroy you. Green mother, hold those who come to destroy my children."
You see what looks like a head within a head, a creatures white bleched skull encloses a small reptilian head, A strange creature's head just showing above the log laying across the path.
BM Stealth 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18 add 3 for the landscape
DM Deevor |
You all get +2 on perception checks due to Targ's pointing.
DM Deevor |
A small shrill voice comes back ...
"Leave us alone, you won't get my little ones! Away with you if you know what's best!"
If you want to enter a dialogue, then if you speak draconic, then diplomacy rolls...
Latharel the Lost |
"All - please try to hold your weapons. I will try to negotiate passage.
[b]"We will retreat if you let us know how to get around your lair and the lair of your small ones. Our humble appology trespassing. All we can say as excuse is, we are not from here and don't know the path around.
Can we leave you a gift for our transgression? Some food maybe? Or are there other items you like from humans that you can't get easily here?[b]
Diplomacy 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Latharel the Lost |
"I'm trying to barter our way through. Does anyone have items that might appeal to these creatures. If you don't mind losing them, then please show them in a non threatening way. "
Where is the bag of coloured glass pearls when you need one. The GM might allow assist if you have something on offer - aka - I don't think I manage completely on my own.
Latharel the Lost |
Latharel rummages in his backpack and produces his finds.
He placed in front of him a clay mug, a dagger, 2 fishhooks, flint and steel, a sewing needle, a signal whistle, 50 feet of string, 50 feet of thread and some flint and stone.
"Feel free to accept any of these for free passage. "
DM Deevor |
Will see what the others do or not do, before I respond.
Crar |
Sorry everyone, whole family came down with stomach flu this week, to be honest haven't had the energy for doing anything on the computer after work. Great to finally get back to the game!
Crar keeps scanning the bog to work out what the group has encountered, but can't see anything through all the muck.
Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
At Latharel's suggestion, Crar produces a dagger and a thunderstone, which he reveals rather reluctantly, placing it down with the other items.
DM Deevor |
Current Positions are about 60ft or more away and with bushes and stuff obscuring some of the view, which is a bit far off if you are hoping to offer gifts, particularly small ones.. The creature is only seen by Targ. Use co-ordinates to say where you want to go to.
Lillia, no problem with the pocket watch idea.
its 1/2 movement on the whole map, no 5ft steps.
Apologies if I'm a little pedantic on this, but taking a my time over it... I keep thinking, I shouldn't do that...
DM Deevor |
Seeing Latharel hold out his hands, showing some some small shiny objects, the strange little creature disappears from sight. A sploshing is heard before a jumble of words is heard.
"What do you think, my little ones? Should we accept their gifts, what use are they for us?"
A short silence, before the sploshing continues and a voice calls out....
"Don't think my children are impressed by such small shiny things, what use to them are such things? Leave and don't disturb them further."
If your new positions aren't exactly right, I had to make a new map, as I changed my computer and operating system a bit. It couldn't read the old file.
New Positions
Latharel the Lost |
"Thanks for not attacking us. We will leave you and walk around your lair in peace."
"The local owners of this place seem not to want our gifts. But I think they let us go as they understand we are not here to attack them. Let us try to move around as best as we can without getting any closer."
Latharel takes 2 steps back - gathers his gifts and looks for a way around. Even if this means some damp feet or some extra time.
Survival check to find a way around: 1d20 ⇒ 5
Someone else better in finding a way around? Guess it should be possible - even if we have to track back a few minutes. This is wood/swamp - not mountains where only a single way might be possible.
Crar |
Survival check to assist looking for alternative route: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
At Latharel's suggestion, Crar suddenly becomes more wary. He takes a few steps back, brandishing his spear, looking for enemies. The half-elf decides to fall back, helping Latharel and the others to look for another way around.
Move back 30feet, to around square C26 or so, looking for alternative way around the mysterious creatures.
Perception check again to look for attackers: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
DM Deevor |
As you move a way into the distance you hear in the background,
bog and swamp which takes you around the strange creature, although it costs an extra couple of hours or more, during which time Nester complains bitterly about you should be making all haste Pier's End, which surely isn't that far away. You continue on as the path becomes better for traveling, the ground becomes firmer and it would seem safer. Unable to reach the town in daylight, you must decide whether to continue on into the night or find somewhere to camp.
Apologies life got busy ... think its Xmas coming.
Bedmyr Thunderbeard |
Bedmyr grouses a little at having to stomp through the bog and swamp but becomes increasingly jovial as the road becomes firmer.
"Ach, Nester, these things happen," the dwarf says as his mood lightens considerably, "Nothin' yeh can do about 'em."
As night draws in, Bedmyr ponders their situation.
"How many of yeh c'n see in th' dark?" he asks, "Ah c'n see well enough so if we tie oursel's t'gether we should be able to make decent headway. Jes' don' want teh lose someone once the sun has set."
Bedmyr suggests that he take the lead and someone else with darkvision take up the rear. His plan is to move without torches so they don't attract any night time predators.
DM Deevor |
Darkness descends upon the marsh, a quietness, a silence except for the sounds of your troop of travelers, splashing through puddles and squelching through the mud. Torches are lit, to push back the black, golden glows of light shining out into the night. The occasional sounds of owls and other night creatures are heard, gurgles from the bog itself, as still you push on. Eventually the sodden land beneath your feet becomes firmer and in the distance a red glow on the horizon. You speed up, your destination in sight, as you get closer you pass pinpricks of light to the right and left, outlaying farms around the fishing village of Pier's End. A wave of relief settles on the party as they close in on the village, on civilization, surely the first part of their task complete, finding a way across Kortos with out alerting the Aspis Consortium.
The village is dark, except for the lights coming from the various houses, though no-one is outside this time of night. Many houses and building are just deeper black shadows in the night, just a few still seem to show signs of life. You keep on your path, on your way through the village, towards the quay, the heart of the place. The sounds of waves lapping against boats, and the sound of boisterousness coming from a large building across from the quay. Light escapes from several windows, shouts and loud talking continue from within.
In the light from one of the windows, a sign creaks lazily in the breeze, The Mermaids Rest. You enter unnoticed, it seems that the ale has been flowing and many of the customers have had more than is good for them. People shout, rather than talk, at one end of the room, 3 males with their arms around each other sing, or shout with feeling, the song of a sea shanty, "Let the wind blow, Let the sail fill, Home! Home! Home! Let the net fill, Pull the catch up, Home! Home! Home! "
One one table, a surly faced woman is in earnest conversation, with forthright tone her voice rise in tone and volume, "Those who take the eastern route deserve what's coming, they knew before they started the risks!!! Eh! Taddy." The man takes his drink, pouring the remaining liquid down his throat, before replying in a more even tone, "You're just unforgiving, Darice, you know the catch in the eastern passage can provide reward enough for a month or more."
As you walk towards the bar, a couple of well groomed and fat halflings eat the last remaining crumbs of food, both talk quietly to one another, "Well my dear, that was just fine!" the other replies, "My thanks Otti, indeed I'm very sated."
Whilst at the other end of the bar, a raucous crowd are heard, "Come on Tanner, tell us another of them stories!" and burst into more laughter. Taking them seriously is an old man, puffing smoke from his pipe and talking to them though the side of mouth, not a hint of humor in his demeanor. He takes a drink offered to him by one of the crowd, "Well thank you Rapalf, make me lips wet would ye!" he drinks from the red clay mug, half the beer going into his mouth, the other over his clothes. Despite the beer, an aroma of old fish reaches your noses, an unpleasant smell, but one which seems forgotten by his audience.
To your right, a group of men, stand or sit swaying around a table, their eyes focused on the dice that roll there. So scowl as the result is known, one man, whose eyes are clearer and less clouded than the others, takes in money and hands some of it back to the victors. "No Jachin, your luck hasn't changed." a dwarf laughs.
In front of you, behind the bar a jovial half-orc, his tusks clean and wearing a grubby white and wet apron serves revelers with beer. A couple of his customers, pick their friend up from being slumped over a table and haul him off out of the tavern. Others drink, some bleary eyed, with red cheeks and clenched fists, others looking as though the day is done and dreams await, clinging onto reality before falling into slumber.
Its very late in the day, your ponies are hitched up outside the tavern.
Apologies to Bedmyr, I wrote this before reading your entry, hence the torches .... but hey it made it quicker this time. ... :)
Bedmyr Thunderbeard |
"Ah'll hae whitever dwarven ale yeh have here," Bedmyr booms as he approaches the bar, looking at the half-orc to get the measure of him. While the 'tender busies himself, Bedmyr turns to Nester and looks around the room.
"Any o' these fine folks the one's we're lookin' fer?" he asks quietly, his voice barely audible over the din of the tap room.
Crar |
For once, Crar is glad to see civilization again. As the troop enters the tavern, he turns to Latharel: "Well, time for that beer? See what great wilderness warriors we turned out to be!" At Bedmyr's comment about looking for a contact, Crar is suddenly reminded of the mission and scans the room again. His ears are drawn to the conversation with Tanner, and he's curious what tale the man plans to tell. Ha, we have our own tale to tell, about our adventure!
Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 to tell whether anyone here in the tavern is the agent we are to meet.
DM Deevor |
Nester pipes up as you get him an ale, "gentlemen, you are mistaken if you think we will meet our agent here, we have to get to the Isle of Erran, across the strait there." he points vaguely out towards the quay and beyond, "where the port of Escadar is situated. It is there we have an appointment to meet with the agent."
Crar |
Crar smacks his head in consternation. "Of course! We need to go to the Isle. Well, in that case, anyone here likely to loan us a boat?" The half-elf scans the room for anyone who might be agreeable to taking us across the water.
Seeing as his roll was so good the last time, can Crar make another Sense Motive check, this time to discern whether any of the fishermen or sailors here in the tavern might be interested in boating us across to Escadar?
Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Then again, with that roll, well never mind.
DM Deevor |
The half-orc leans across the bar too Bedmyr, recognising that a dwarf always buys a drink, "Welcome stranger, an ale, our finest?" Turning before getting a reply, he goes to a brown barrel and pours our a foaming tankard of ale, its golden brown color and the hoppy aroma touch the dwarf's nose. "'Tis late to be coming in here all dirty and tired as ye looks. You need a bed tonight, we have a couple of reasonably priced rooms? And a meal, got some leftover stew, for a good price. The cooks gone now, or I could ha offered you more." He turns looking over the rest of the companions, then speaking to the dwarf, "ye got a rum lot there! they 'aving a beer to?" He looks at Bedmyr, or more especially his pockets, waiting for his hands to bring out some coin.
Tanner turns glassy eyed to Crar, his speech slurred, he says "What you know my mistress, she's unfaithful to me, the b@+@#. See her when the tempers up, she tries to kill me. The b%#~~!" he spits on the floor in front and spills half his remaining drink as Crar's senses are assailed by the smell of fish, as though the old man sleeps in a pile of rotting fish. His weather beaten face, brown greying hair unkempt and wild, rosey nose and dirty clothes, make you wonder why the other men surround him, certainly nothing he says seems like a real adventurer's story. "Get me a drink, I'll listen to ya, though you smell of the bog." The young men around him, laugh some more, then call out, "A story, a story tell us all!"
Crar |
Crar waves a hand, trying to dispel the odors assailing his nose as he
speaks to Tanner. "The bog? Why yes, we certainly have come from a bog. We," with a sweep of his hand the eagle shaman indicates the group, "are adventurers! We live for excitement and exploration. And we found it! Let me tell you, there is adventure aplenty to be found in the interior of Kortos here. We trekked freezing mountain passes, monster-ridden forests, and interminable bogs. And it brought us here, to this fine place. Where shall we go now? Perhaps, by boat! We're here to see all there is to see, by the sea. Would there be anyone here willing to takes us out on a boat?" Crar puts some coins on the bar, to pay for a round of drinks for Tanner and the rest of the party. He turns to the other members of the group and winks.
Diplomacy check to be friendly 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
Bedmyr Thunderbeard |
Bedmyr's crestfallen nature quickly evaporates at the sight of some fresh ale.
"What'll it be fer some decent grub, a warm enough bed fer the night an' some breakfast?" Bedmyr asks as his stomach gives off a loud growl.
DM Deevor |
The old man looks at Crar, in his sodden state he replies, "More would be adventures with no real story, not like men when I pulled in a couple of coconut crabs, oh oh blow me! What a palaver! The damn things was ruining me nets, I mean a whole family of 'em. What a mess, all the catch in the hold slipping and sliding around, mackerel, blue fined seadrads, and other such edible fish. Then them crabs thought it their lucky day, all that fish, snicking away with their claws. Ruining the catch, pah! So, I's gets down and get me club out, damn if them little rascals have hides as thick owt I've ever seen. Me wooden club just bounced back off their shells, hardly doing 'em damage at all. Then as if gripped by some joint intelligence they gangs up on me. Must be at least oooh, 20 maybe more of the snapping little fellas, come after me. An could I stop 'em, oh no, not even getting out that hold. They's snapped at me leg, me blood mingling with the fish, I hauled meself out. Then theys followed me all the way back to the cabin, I tried to lock meseln in but they beat at the door, they's wanted blood, all 100s of 'em. So's I takes me last lamp, must a just filled it with oil that day. that was lucky I thought to meseln. An I opens the door and run out to the aft, them things scamppering after me, thousands of 'em, so I climbs up on the rigging, blood dripping out o' me leg, sending the buggers into a blood rage. But I climbs up high, lights the lamp and drops it on 'em. Whooosh went the lamp as it landed right on top of them, a great big ball of flame as the lamp exploded on the deck. They didn't like that, thats what made 'em run, oh yes. Running back over the side, jumping in the seas to save their little crustacean lives. Ha that's how is 'ow I survived." he laughs with the young men at his fishy tale. Leaning back, he takes a deep puff on his pipe, and lets the smoke make its own way out of his open mouth, before drinking the last of his ale. He sways.
"See that's a tale!" he beams and shakes his head vigorously from side to side, for no apparent reason as far as you are concerned, before stamping on the ground."No!, No! away with ye!". He looks up, his eyes glazed, before calming down a bit. "Ah a boat you want eh! and someone that can take ye eh? Well, you come to the right place oh yeah!" the young men laugh at his words, and start whispering amongst themselves.
"Do you trust 'ole Tanner on the sea?"
"Nah, the mad bugger jus lucky ot be alive, if ya ask me?"
"Wouldn't catch me with him"
"So lad, you want an adventure over the sea? Huh, can you sing a sea shanty for me?" he packs his pipes with more weed, and offers his empty tankard to you. "A drink and a song, then maybe we'll talk about it."
DM Deevor |
Will answer Bedmyr's question later....
Crar |
Crar listens incredulously to Tanner's tale. Crabs? However, he takes up Tanner's challenge, signalling for another ale for the sailor as he dredges his memories for some sea shanty. In the meantime, his keen ears pick up some of what the crowd are saying about Tanner.
Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
A sea shanty, eh? I'll have to have a think about that one.
DM Deevor |
The strong barkeep, smiles at Bedmyr "Well stranger, we have a couple of rooms,, it'll be 25 silver pieces for you and for each of your friends. I'll throw in enough ale, to make you sleep soundly too." A big toothy grin accentuates his tusks, as his hand comes out waiting for payment. "Breakfast is at 8, and we'll rustle up some of ma's stew and dumplings if you give us a few minutes. What d'ya say? Me names Datrik, if you need anything else, and yours?" as his friendly eyes look at you expectantly. Hearing Bedmyr's growling stomach, he winks and says, "Double portion?"
Crar |
A sea shanty? Crar wracks his brain, trying to remember if he's ever heard one. He's no bard, but wouldn't seem to hurt to enlist Tanner. Finally, he belts out some half-remembered lines:
I was walking the plank,
I was just showing off for a bet.
When I got to the end I waved to my friend,
And that's why I ended up wet!
I gave a big wave
To show I was brave,
But I wobbled and ended up wet!*
Finishing, Crar grins weakly and explains it's something he heard when he was younger, not having much experience with ships. Diplomacy check 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
Hearing the others' shock at the prices for a room, Crar tries to help negotiate. "Any chance of a group discount? Or perhaps there's something we can help with to offset the cost? Slay a dragon or something? We're not trying to swindle you, but that fee's higher than most places in Absalom. Why? Is there something special going on in town?" Another Diplomacy check if possible, perhaps on the following action. 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Oh dear, I seem to have angered the dice gods again, must not have liked my ditty
*poem copyright of Kaye Umansky. :)
Latharel the Lost |
Latharel takes out three gold pieces and places them on the bar.
"Take them - and keep the change for one of my haggling friends. But I have first pick of the bed you offer."
Diplomacy 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
He doesn't feel he can improve the mood - but better a bed as another night outside.