[PFS]GM Dennis - #3-23 The Goblinblood Dead (closed) (Inactive)

Game Master Dennis Muldoon

Hmmm looks like the hobgoblin's stuck indeed. Here's my roll for an aoo, or normal attack after it goes.

Power attack, Nodachi + 7 -1 Power Attack +1 Raging Song: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
20% Miss chance, Low is bad for Ibb: 1d100 ⇒ 22
Damage: 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Golfblin gopher grouchy winter wolf
Swimmin in a pool of blood
Stirred around with golfblin club

Eugressia fires a bead of force from the end of a wand, leaving a large welt on the hobgoblin's face. Oiur swings their hammer, but it caroms off her armor, which you can now see is made completely of bone. Sorry, no such luck. She's surprisingly tough to hit.

Rowdy tries to position himself to prevent an escape, while Ibb continues his bellowed 'tune' and takes another swing, his butter knife unable to penetrate the bone armor. It was actually your turn before everyone elses, left over from the end of the previous round.

The hobgoblin hunkers down behind her wooden shield and attempts to protect herself while casting the same spell she attempted a few seconds ago, but once again her spell fizzles. Someday I'll roll well on this check...
Casting defensively, concentration DC 17: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Initiative round 3/4:

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Eugressia flicks her wand again, growing bolder. "I am not afraid of you!"

magic missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Oiur's arms ache from the hammer's impact and unexpected rebound. Off balance, they use the hobgoblin's withdrawal to focus themselves. They throw back their head and the song rises, shaking their chest.

The earth breaker smashes sideways into the shield: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8 vs. CMD; this is a disarm attempt against the shield, and the hobgoblin gets an AoO.
^^Aw man, no luck this scenario!^^

AoO, morningstar: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
damage: 1d8 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

The hobgoblin grips her shield tightly, retaliating with a swift but ineffective blow.

I have a lunch thing today. Posting my attack early. Ibb has step up if needed and 20' of movement.

POEMS R DUMB

Power attack, Nodachi + 7 -1 Power Attack +1 Raging Song: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
20% Miss chance, Low is bad for Ibb: 1d100 ⇒ 95
Damage: 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (9) + 10 = 19

Oiur almost ducks the hobgoblin's reprisal and the points of the morning star scrape across their hide armor. They smash in again at her shield, hoping the blow will disorient her and make an opening for Ibb.

Aid Another: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20 vs. AC 10; +2 to to Ibb's attack roll on success.

Not early, you were up first to finish round three, then everyone else to start round 4.

Ibb is tired of talking. He's tired of hearing the hobgoblin talk in that stupid weird tongue, too. What he's not tired of is hitting golfblins with his nodachi. This swing connects solidly, shattering pieces of the bone that makes up her armor. She looks bloody and beaten, but she persists.

As she's reeling from Ibb's blow, Eugressia's force bead slams into her, breaking more bone armor.

Rowdy's turn

"Cayden's liver, I can't get a clear shot with this mist."

Arcane gun: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 vs touch AC

Bullet Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Rowdy will take high to hit

50% Miss Chance: 1d100 ⇒ 37

Seeing his shot miss, Rowdy will holster Serena in frustration, and anticipate drawing his rapier on the next round.

Oiur, you already acted this round, attempting to disarm her shield. I'll count that successful aid-another as your next turn, if you'd like, though you can change it based on what you see her do here if you'd like.

Rowdy's aim is spoiled by a trick of the mist, ricocheting harmlessly off the workbench beside the hobgoblin. Frustrated, he holsters Serena.

Battered and bloodied, she tries again to cast while defending herself as best she can.

concentration, cast defensively, DC 17: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

She manages to keep her shield in front of her while staring into Ibb's eyes and casting a spell. Ibb is suddenly filled with a sharp and potent fear. Casting cause fear again, this time successfully. DC 15 Will save please Ibb. Shaken on success, frightened on failure.

Initiative round 4/5:

Eugressia looks on nervously as the hobgoblin casts her spell. She flicks her wand a third time.

magic missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Rowdy steps into the mist, draws his rapier, and tries to hit the hobgoblin.

Rapier: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Will: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

wow. there's a will fail :)

he imagines his best friend getting hurt :( Irp! Noooo!

Squatting on Ibb's head while he runs about in fear, the bird tries to reassure his friend: It was all pretend! I'm okay, Ibb!

WWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Dey Golfed Irp! WHAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

moved Ibb 40' on the map; dropped weapon

Sorry about that! Given Ibb's acute grief, I'll change to an attack.

Earth breaker: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7 for 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (4, 1) + 6 = 11 damage.

Ibb's mind is filled with a vision of a morning star arcing through the air, followed by a burst of feathers. He flees at the thought, all other thoughts driven away by fear.

Rowdy steps up to fill the space left by Ibb's sudden departure and joins Oiur in a coordinated attack. Unfortunately, neither is able to penetrate the heavy bone armor covering the oracle.

Thankfully, that armor offers no protection from pure force, however. Eugressia once again shakes her wand, sending a bead of force that strikes the hobgoblin right between the eyes. She staggers back a step, then another, before collapsing slumped against the back wall, bones clattering against the floor. After a moment, Ibb's fear fades. After a few minutes, the accursed mist dissipates Out of combat!

Searching the hobgoblin you find four scrolls and a wand, in addition to her mundane gear and a silver holy symbol.

At the base of the altar your find a stash of incense and herbs that you think might be valuable. You also find several unusual books.

Rowdy casts read magic to decipher the scrolls.

Rowdy knows Osiriani, but does not have linguistics :(

You hear Ibb crashing about in the other room, and then birdsong. A minute later Ibb comes back with the bird sitting on his head.

Did you see that? Stupid Hobgolfblins can't fool me for long. I'm smarter than that. He kicks the corpse and picks up his butter knife.

He surreptitiously pats Irp, making sure it's still there.

Eugressia picks up a book and stares at it.

"Something seems familiar...if I could only remember..."

Spell Recollection: 1d100 ⇒ 35

Nope! I was trying to remember the spell comprehend languages.

She closes her eyes and focuses, but then shakes her head. "It's not coming to me. I'll just have to try to decipher it, but that might take more time than we have."

Linguistics: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

"Shall we continue to the next door?"

Oiur's pulse ebbs with their song. Their face is red, their body aches, and their arms feel leaden after what seemed to be hours of drumming on stone and bone and wood. They exhale and slump, using the earth breaker as support. Their emerald eyes drift to the room's other slumped occupant—the corpse.

"She was formidable. And I couldn't do anything useful." They shake their head, expelling sweat and frustration in equal measure. "Good thing you all were capable and prepared."

Their eyes pass over the hobgoblin's silver symbol...
Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
...and over to the book in Eugressia's pale hands. "What in the world language is that?"
Linguistics: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
I have the unintentional linguist trait, but I'm not technically trained in linguistics. Dunno if that would have made a difference had I rolled higher.

At Eugressia's question, they give a quick expulsion of breath. They walk over to Rowdy and join him in the attending a pragmatist's wake. "The sooner we leave, the better," they call over their shoulder. "This lair has proved to be entirely too much trouble."
They pick up the wand and symbol, frowning at each.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14 to identify the wand.

A fair number of the words in the book seem to be drawn from Osiriani, but not enough to allow Rowdy to decipher it. Eugressia tries to conjure the ability to read it from her memory, but it just when she thinks she has it, the memory slips back into the fog of her mind.

You seem to have found all there is to find in this room. Specifically, you did not find the documents Ibb and Oiur are looking for. I’m going to assume you want to move into the one room you haven’t been into yet.

You open the door to the room at the eastern end of the cavern and can immediately discern its original purpose. Three cramped cells line the western wall of this chamber while an exposed pit runs along the northern wall. The cells are little more than cages made of metal and old wood, with piles of dried grass barely covering the stone floors.

Oiur peers over the edge of the pit.
"Either Irp's nest is intensely hydrophilic, or this portion of the room is oddly dry."

Dennis, did read magic decipher what the scrolls were?

Rowdy will detect for magic in this room.

Yes, sorry. They were: (1) scroll of bane, (1) scroll of lesser restoration, and (2) scrolls of cure moderate wounds.
You can give me a spellcraft check for the wand if you'd like.

Surprise!

Is there anything to see? Any knowledge check?

If not, Ibb will ready to swing his butter knife at any threat.

spellcraft: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8

Whelp, Rowdy has no idea what the wand is.

Sorry Ibb, I didn't see any skills in your profile and just assumed you didn't have Knowledge (religion).

Irp can; Sage archetype. He also has a point in religion,

Know(religion): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Irp shrugs, Maybe there's something here to hit… do what you do best Ibb.

You see a man in a pit, hungry, injured, but mostly he’s thirsty. You can feel his dehydration. You can feel the desperate, dessicated, deadly thirst. You can feel the panic as he realizes that there’s no water coming, and no hope of surviving without it.

As the vision fades, you’re back in the present, and all you can see in the pit is a skull, dry and dusty. Your mouth becomes dry and you become desperately thirsty, the moisture within you drying up as you rapidly dehydrate.

Fortitude save from everyone, please.

Fortitude save: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Also, turning in for the night!

Fortitude: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Fortitude: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15

Fortitude Save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

As the vision fades, so does the thirst...for most of you. Rowdy, Eugressia, and Ibb are able to shake off the feeling of dying in a pit, desperate for water, dreaming of water washing over you as your body succumbs.

For Oiur, though, the feeling remains. Their mouth is dry, their throat parched. They pull out their waterskin and take a drink, but to no avail; the thirst remains.

Oiur constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

They manage to ignore the effects of dehydration for now, but the thirst remains, as does the memory. In another flash, Oiur sees the man in the pit, in his last moments, smiling. Suddenly they are seeing what he saw, dreaming of standing under a waterfall, the cool clear water pouring over his head. This was where his mind took him as he drew his last, shallow breath, his body finally succumbing to the dehydration. The thirst has not faded at all, and you think it will only become more difficult to ignore as time goes on.

Eugressia looks with great concern at her friend. "Oiur, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Knowledge(religion), faction pin: 1d20 + 1d4 + 8 ⇒ (7) + (3) + 8 = 18

"Oh dear, this is a haunt. Some poor soul died here. Those who can create positive energy can usually damage them, but we don't have anyone like that. Sometimes, there's another way to destroy them, but we'll have to figure it out."

"I ain't too fond a ghosts or haunts myself. Perhaps if we give this guy a proper burial?" Rowdy says, looking down at the bones. "Or maybe we should pour some water down there?"

Did Rowdy detect anything magical in this room?

Nothing magical, but....

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

Go fetch, Ibb!

Don't wanna.

A spectral hand lifts the skull from the pit. Ibb ponders it for a moment.

Do you think he knows the man from the pit? He hands it to Badger. Sorry, I don't got no waterpot.

All Oiur can do in response to Eugressia's question is erupt in rasping coughs. They uncap their waterskin and drink deeply, and while it quells their coughing fit, it does nothing to lessen their sudden, intense thirst.

"Maybe..." They speak in a soft voice like sand over stone.

They pour their waterskin out over the retrieved skull, and watch intently for any sign of spiritual activity.

Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Rowdy pours some water on the skull as well.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

But he seems pretty oblivious to anything else.

Ibb licks his lips and drinks from his waterskin.

A wing slaps him on the forehead.

Ibb pours water on the skull.

Oiur gulps water, seeking relief. When it fails to slake their thirst they stare at it, forlorn. Desperate for relief, they instead pour some on the skull, wistfully watching it arc from their waterskin. As the water touches the skull a wave of relief pours over them. The feeling of moisture returns, but only momentarily. Soon their mouth dries up again, the terrible thirst returning.

Seeing the mounting panic in Oiur's eyes Rowdy follows suit, pouring his water over the skull as well. Again, Oiur is staggered by the sudden relief, but again the thirst returns, and despair follows.

A gulping sound draws the party's attention as they turn to see Ibb guzzling water from his waterskin. He pauses with a mouth full of water, like a dog caught raiding the trashcan, staring at them as the liquid dribbles down his chin. The silent standoff is broken when a bird wing reaches down and slaps him. Sheepishly, he pours his remaining supply onto the dusty skull. This time, the skull seems to dissolve, as dust washed by rain. Oiur falls to the ground as the relief comes, not as a wave but as a torrent. When they regain their senses the deadly thirst is gone, as is the skull.

Haunt destroyed!

Huzzah!

Rowdy helps Ouir to their feet.

"Glad we got through that," he says. "But ifin I ain't wrong, we didn't exactly find what we was lookin' for down here. I didn't see me no skeleton army nowhere, unless there's somethin' we missed."

Eugressia sighs with relief. "I'm so glad that you're all right! But you have a point, Rowdy. We seem to be missing some pieces here. "

Huh? We did some golfblin — he gestures at the pit — then got a drink at the last hole.

He rubs his head and furrows his brow. That usually means it's time to go home. But now there's a puzzle too!? I don't like those much.

Having cleared every room of the cave, you can take your time searching more thoroughly. You find nothing of interest in the room with the pit, but birdie instincts for shinies are strong. Irp excitedly dives off Ibb's head and flies into one of the cells, pecking at a corner until it pulls out a piece of copper emblazoned with a snake head. As the bird pulls its prize from the crack, a small scroll tube falls out and clatters on the ground, rolling to the edge of the cage where you can easily retrieve it. Within you find the missing documents that Ibb and Oiur have been searching for.

After searching the rest of the cave thoroughly, you return to the caravan with what treasures you found (specifically the scroll tube, the Aspis badge, and the book, though you haven't deciphered it). You find the caravan where you left it, on edge but unharmed. The rest of your journey passes without significant incident and you reach Druma, where you part on friendly terms. The Sczarni soon resume regular caravan travel through the Chitterwood, and between them and the goblinoid tribes any remaining undead in the forest do not last long.

That's the end! There's no real puzzle left to solve: the hobgoblin necromancer you fought in the mist was the source of the undead, though she was unable to get any summons off in that fight. Any other details you'd like to know, or any other plot points that didn't make sense, now that you've finished?

I'll get your chronicle sheets up soon, but probably not until tomorrow, since I'm running a game in meatspace tonight.

Yay! No puzzles!

Ibb pretends to read the documents.

I remember, we was looking for these.

Bluff: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (8) - 1 = 7