Gameplay thread
|
The tall strong well armored half orc with a great sword and some javelin walks in and take the seat at the table. Dropping his gear he said
" blessings of groum to you on this day. May He give you strength in all your future endeavors. And on this task that is being given to us today"
calling for the barmaid
" some food and drink for before we depart for who knows when is next time we will be able to sit and drink merrily at our leisure"
He places 3 pieces of gold on the table as the barmaid walks up
Turning to the group
" my name is Gremli Sangre in in service to Groum , may to know your name and why have you decided to take on this no doubt difficult trial?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
Lifting his glass
" boredom haha I like that the same reason sitting in the church all day practicing your forms gets quite tedious"
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
A relatively young elven man enters and sits down with the rest of the party. "Nice to meet you, all. I am Bralden. I look forward to beginning our work for the Pathfinders. My parents were both Pathfinders, and I hope to continue their good work."
Bralden wears a set of leather armor and carries a longbow. He also wears a symbol of the open road around his neck, obviously made many years ago.
|
|
" there are few better reasons for taking on these trials then family tradition. Good to have you, I see you have a lute quite worn what did that belong to your parents? If you don't use to answer I understand I just want to get to know my companions a bit better"
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
" oh I see surprising that your parents we're against you learning the bardic ways I thought l like fanciful music. That's for myself my grandfather made me learn the cloth so I wouldn't turn out like my brother. He's out there somewhere in the wilds chasing along anything that he sees. He's not terrible mind you buddy very much I question his intelligence most of time seeing as how he can't read or write. But that's a story for a later time, good to meet you"
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
Sympathizing with her elven 'cousin' Devonalia adds "My parents wanted me to study the arcane arts as they had, but I chose to learn the bow as my uncle taught me...it displeased my parents a bit."she chuckles. Looking at the Half Orc she says..."A holy man you say, funny I would have pegged you for a bloodrager or a witch guard ranger..."
|
|
Taking a small drink of mead gremli says
" see butt a bow music fanciful things all of that screams elven to me. That's why I cannot believe that there was an issue with it but I guess every family has to have a oddball or two"
Turning to her
" no the blood Rangers the brother I told you about he's quite... but I've lost contact with him you might have gone down a bad road not sure. It is true but none the less my grandfather convinced me to follow the cloth I took to it well and he treats me well, as I will treat you well in our travels."
Holding up a glass
" too annoying families and new friends, what of you small one disappointment to yours as well? Or are you following the proud family tradition of?"
Gremlins ask the halfling
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
"Brothers are a hampering." the halfling looks at the table where the Venture-Captain should already be "My mother had a venture with a sylph while my father had already fornicated her. I just wanted to fry them for what they did and the sparks of my mixed ancestry did the rest. The magic is just natural on me since that day."
He taps at the table nervously "Are we going to stay talking here the whole day?" you see how sparks of electricity go around the halfling and his hair starts to stand on end "I just desire to free now all poor children from the tyranny of gen ties so they can chose by themselves in life. For good or bad."
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin enters the room in his usual rushed pace and clears his throat before speaking in a loud booming voice.
“All right, Pathfinders! Take a seat if you haven't already." He takes a stack of envelopes from a leather pack and hands them to Ledt. "Pass these around, please."
He pauses for a moment looking over the group and sighs.
"Okay ... I know you are new recruits eager to make names for yourselves in the organization, but first we need to make sure you are up to snuff and won’t get yourself killed out there. I have a number of small assignments for you and your team, and it would be best if you could finish them before the day’s end."
“Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some sniveling bootlicker willing to do anything to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It’s rough out there and I’m not just talking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness Pathfinders find themselves in on missions. We’ve got people who look down their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we have collected. This wealth of knowledge and these items of lore make us the most powerful organization on the planet. That said, since we are fractured and widespread, it’s difficult for that power to light on anything for too long. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies.
“Your first mission, to test your mettle and loyalties, sends you to meet a few people important to the Society living here in Absalom. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organization, so follow their orders as you would mine. I’ve prepared a list of things I want you to do. They’re not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. Only report to me once you complete them all. Included in the envelope you hold in your hands is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location.”
"I trust the assignment is clear and I encourage you to be on your way, I have some important business to attend to so you'll have to excuse me." He motions toward the door.
Contents of your envelope
Each envelope contains a scribed piece of parchment with the following:
Assignment #17:
☐ A man named Guaril Karela runs a curio shop in the Docks called
the Pickled Imp. Go to him and fill his request as a favor to the
Society. I believe it has something to do with a set of rare books.
☐ Ollysta Zadrian requested aid and is expecting you at the Temple
of the Shining Star in the Ascendant Court. She needs someone
to deliver a parcel of medicine and curatives to a needy orphanage
and verify the character of the recipient.
☐ Visit the offices of Osirian nobleman Dremdhet Salhar in the Wise
Quarter. The Pathfinder Society needs to obtain permission to
delve the Salhar ancestral vaults beneath Sothis. He has made a
verbal agreement, and your visit makes it official. You will receive an
official charter and detailed maps. Do not embarrass the Society in
this matter.
☐ Chelish Paracountess Zarta Dralneen possesses an item loaned
from the Vaults. Meet with her in her estate in the Ivy District and
retrieve the item in her possession.
|
|
A tall Half-elf, with a scraggly brown beard, and equally wild hair covering his head, Radagast dresses simply in a well-worn explorer's outfit, covered with much-patched hide armor.
The scythe that he carries, however, is clearly well-cared-for, the blade sharp, and shining, in the light.
Stroking his beard, he nods.
"That seems like a series of straight-forward tasks, yes? Shall we start at the top of the list, and work our way down?"
|
A rather nervous-looking dwarf enters the room muttering quietly to himself.
He wrings his hands together fretfully as he looks around and sees he's already late. He hesitates for a moment before taking a seat near the door before anyone notices his tardiness.
His clothes are simple sturdy workman's clothes though the pants seem recently covered in dirt.
He has a pack, but it only seems partially filled, and sports no immediately obvious weapons other then a few javelins strapped to the side.
Everything seems shiny and new, and nervously adjust the strap on the pack back and forth continuously throughout the meeting, seemingly never quite satisfied.
As the briefing starts, he looks around unsure of something and listens to Valsin's words unhappily.
He takes the note from Ledt only after the later nearly shoves it in his hands.
"This can't be good." He mutters.
|
|
Gremli takes the notes and tells to the group
" well it best we get started now rather than later. Let's go see the man at the docs first and yes we'll work our way down the rest. I assume you all came prepared and already have all the equipment you will require. If so let's be off Groum give us strength in this task..."
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
As Ledt finishes distributing the documents with a rather grim expression he says nodding "Let's go to the Pricked Imp shop and finish this fast enough. I am already hungry and the human business make my head spin."
Not really waiting for anyone the halfling gets out of the office with a simple "Seeya!"
|
|
Ledt turns to look at the elf, looks at the hand over his shoulder and moves it slightly to make it fell "Tell me gnome again and not even your mother will recognise your burned hair." he looks then to Radagast and nods in acknowledgement "Fortunately I have you here my friend so this people can understand me. And now, can we move to the docks and check that Imp shop?" not waiting for reply the halfling resumes walking towards the party's destination.
|
|
Doubtful watches the halfling take off, followed shortly by the others, with a frown of misgiving.
He glances around at the now empty room for a moment, before realizing he's falling behind yet again, and hurries out the door to catch up to the others.
"I'm really not sure this is the right spot to start." He offers absently as he catches up.
You leave the Grand Lodge and make your way south toward the Docks to visit Guaril Karela at the Pickled Imp. The city is alive and busy, as you've come to expect. You pass through several sections of street lined with vendors specializing in a wide assortment of food, cloth and trinkets from the far reaches of Golarion.
Entering the Docks district is signaled by the smell of fish, higher concentration of drunken sailors stumbling along the street and questionable activities in dark alleys. It's quite clear the law-keepers don't patrol this area with the same vigilance as other areas of Absalom.
The Pickled Imp
This creepy shop contains myriad odds and ends, most bereft of any discernible use. A number of malformed creatures and creature parts bob in jars on a long, prominent shelf, a tiny fetal devil centered in this macabre lineup. The shopkeeper, a greasy-haired Varisian with a thin mustache, shouts from behind the cluttered counter:
“Ah yes, I see the Pathfinders have arrived. I’m glad Ambrus was able to lend a few of his new recruits to help me. Please come in and let me tell you what I need.” Looking around as if to be absolutely certain no customers are browsing the aisles of knock-off Thuvian burial urns or supposed Azlanti porcelain, he begins again.
“Well met. I am Guaril Karela. A friend of mine has a warehouse near here and he received a parcel on behalf of me and some of my associates, but there’s a problem. See, Master Gelbane had to leave town in a hurry and our shipment is still waiting at his warehouse. Rumor is he ended up in trouble with the law
and the place was seized. I heard tell from someone down at the docks that some creep was snooping around his warehouse just the other night, so I want to make sure nothing of mine was taken. He keeps all kinds of things, from beer to nails, in that old pelican, but every now and then he stores something really special. This is one of those cases."
"There’s a big crate marked with three crows arranged in a triangle. Inside that crate is a smaller container with a few books and papers in it. That’s the only parcel I’m interested in, and as far as I’m concerned, you can help yourself to the rest of the crate."
"Honestly, anything else you want in the place too. I’m sure the once things get sorted out, the city will seize most everything else anyway."
"My associates and I often work with the Pathfinders when it comes to special relics and documents, getting them in and out of ports and across borders where the authorities ask too many questions. Most people don’t realize what they have and frankly many don’t deserve to have it, so sometimes we help take the goods off their hands. If things work out well and you get this done, I’d be glad to talk with you more and help you out with any future endeavors, as long as you help me out too. I’m good at returning favors, trust me.”
He smiles, resting his elbows on the counter lightly resting the fingertips of his right and left hands together.
... Seriously, you weren't supposed to peek.
This is where I roll dice 'behind the screen', sometimes there is a reason, sometimes not.
|
|
Ledt listens as the oders interact with Karella "Good words for what is nothing els than thievery Karella. Consider your task done, the Society is known for its care of allies, even the more problematic ones." the small freak turns and starts walking out once the exact location of the warehouse is given.
|
|
Gremli look around the shop as the owner is speaking once he is done Gremli turns and says
"Well met Master Karela, now you say the package you want is in Master Gelbane's shop was it? Then if i understand what your asking is you want us to brake in to the warehouse and take the item in question and we? can have anything else in the place..."
"Now there is not anything else your not telling us is there? or anything we should know?"
eidt
"No i don't think a friend of the guild would lie to it's agents, well weed best head off were was this warehouse again?"
You feel he's not really lying but he's being quite vague.
His shop has all manner of odd creatures suspended in jars of liquid and some encased in glass. You can't think of a reason anyone would be interested in any of these items.
Guaril's story doesn't ring any alarms for you.
Guaril looks to Bralden "Ah, your parents served a noble cause then, Mr. Elf. They must be very proud to see you coming up on the same path." He grins, at his weak pun.
"I assure you, little friend, that I would certainly never cause any problems. As I said, the Pathfinders and I have a history of cooperation."
Looking to Radagast, Guaril seems puzzled. "Well, I was going to wait until the authorities could retrieve my belongings but someone has been hanging around the warehouse checking it out. I'm certainly not the kind to go looking for trouble, you know? One of me is an easy target but a few of you ... no one would be so silly."
"As for a key, no, I don't have any keys. The place is a little run down and I'm worried that someone could already be looting my goods."
"Master half-orc, it's a pleasure to meet you too. Yes, I believe you have the picture. Let me see, I suppose I haven't given you the precise location of the Pelican. Head left out of my shop and go down four blocks, head straight to the docks and it'll be at the end of the pier on the left when you arrive at the waterfront."
"No catch, Mr. Dwarf. I only ask for your help in retrieving my things. In exchange, you can also keep anything of interest you find inside."
|
|
Gremli turns to the rest
"well then we should be off then. Come my companions lefts make haste, Gruom give us some of your great strength to get us safely through this. "
And with that gremli turns and heads out the door in the door
all I ever am is a half-orc to people, now mater what I do I dedicated my live to the church and still. All most see me as is a beast that can run wild at a moments notice. ..when will it change I'm mean yes I killed one person in anger but I was a kid and he was attacking my mother... gremli thought to himself as he walked out
-Posted with Wayfinder
|
|
"If it was seized, won't there be a guard?" Doubtful asks looking around unhappily, though most of his attention seems focused away from the warehouse, as if waiting for an army of officials to descend on them.
"Back home, they always left a guard." He adds, after a moment, rubbing his hands nervously.
As you leave the Picked Imp you see an angry looking halfling across the street leaning against a building watching you exit the shop. As you make eye contact he scowls and holds your gaze for a moment.
A four wagon caravan slowly rolls down the street between you and the halfling. When it passes he is nowhere to be seen.
The warehouse sits perched on the end of a 100ft pier fifteen feet above the water. A small assortment of fishermen, children and dogs sit in groups along the length of the pier but none too close to the warehouse.
A small boat bobs in the water tethered to the pier by a salt encrusted rope.
The warehouse itself appears to struggle against its own roof, threatening to sag into the bay below. No light shines from the building’s windows and only the movement of gulls and pelicans stirs the scene.
Bralden finds the door is locked but during their search Radagast spots a metal key lodged between planks near the door frame. The key fits the lock and grinds a bit as it unlocks the rusty door.
Darkness fills the warehouse, the ambient light from outside blocked by a filthy, oily film on the structure’s few windows. Darting illumination comes from light reflecting off the water through a splintered hole in the floor. Throughout the warehouse, crates, boxes, and barrels lean against each other in vaguely sorted stacks. A lingering smell indicates some of the contents are certainly spoiled.