[PFS] GM ShieldBug's The Year of the Sky Key

Game Master ShieldBug

"So tiger we look for has missing tail?" Yaiho asked a simple question.

"Oh, my!" Danicka exclaims.

Too loud!

Then she blushes and squeaks out a much quieter, "What a fierce beast..."

"There is... Another matter, but it's a little more delicate."

Casual assassination of his stepfather? Eh? Maybe?

Forrest nods along to the stories, engaging quite nicely. However, he presses the Baron for more information. "That seems like quite the catastrophe. When we see the tiger this time, how would you like us to respond?" He resists the chance to smirk. "We would hate to steal any of your honor or vengeance."

"How certain are you that this tigger is still alive? Perhaps in your escape last time you hit it more squarely than you realized and it bled to death. If so, we could be looking for a long time."

"Ha! That would have been something, wouldn't it?" Baron Rudyahm bellows, with a friendly slap of Yaiho's arm. He shakes his head at Arin, "Nah, it moved too quickly to have been anything more than a scrape across its flank and tail. It'll leave a scar for sure, but like I said, this tiger must have been young, and a strong young tiger like that will easily survive the wound I saw on its haunch. Now, if I had blown off its tail, that would have been a different story. Haha!" He reaches for his wine as Forrest asks about the rules of engagement. "Good lad! I've waited a long time to get my revenge on that stripey bastard, and I'll be damned if I'm not the one who'll take the first shot." He takes a good draft of his drink and sets the goblet down thoughtfully. "That said, I don't want the blasted beast to get away again... If I miss, or something happens to startle it. It's all hands on deck! I want that tiger dead and stuffed before we're through in Jalmeray." With dinner running late into the evening, both nobles wish you a good night and see you out of the cabin.

Apart from the occasional visit from the young cabin boy inquiring if anyone has seen the missing cats, the remainder of your voyage is uneventful. However, the food is noticeably blander than that first night, and you are largely left to your own devices with the baron and count busy making preparations. After a few days, the ship lays anchor at a nondescript dock near the edge of the Segang jungle, and the hunting party disembarks with an air of anticipation. While several large crates of supplies and firearms are being unloaded under Baron Rudyahm's supervision, Count Matsanda enters the nearby hunting lodge, where he hires an elephant, a mahout (elephant driver,) and a dozen porters. The elephant seems well past its prime, but it's the only suitable mount available at the lodge, so Matsanda takes it. The lodge also has a variety of survival gear for sale to the discerning adventurer.

If you want to make any last minute purchases, you can do so now. It seems you already have 6 doses of vermin repellant thanks to the kindness and expertise of Rook.

Several locals are hanging around, or working at the hunting lodge, and seem open to conversation.

The Segang Jungle is a dense tropical forest. The deciduous trees that comprise it are green all year round thanks to the wet coastal climate. Apparently, you have reached Jalmeray at the height of its warmer season, and the air is hot and sticky under the jungle canopy. The hunting trail you are about to follow is just wide enough to accommodate the passage of the elephant, and the areas of underbrush on either side are very dense, hindering any movement through them. Count Matsanda and Baron Rudyahm inform you that they will be riding in a howdah on the elephant's back, accompanied by their mahout. The howdah is an elaborate wooden affair that can hold three occupants and one driver. They are also keen to get going as soon as the porters have sorted out the supplies.

Can I have your planned marching order, please? The trail is only 15' wide, and anything off the trail is difficult terrain. As such, the elephant takes up the entire width of the trail, so unless you have an ability to walk through the underbrush with ease, you'll need to decide if you want to walk in front of, or behind the elephant. If you wish to ride in the howdah with the nobles, there is room for one more, but you'll need to succeed at a diplomacy check. ;)

"St-stuffed, you say?" Danicka asks with mild hope. "You don't want it's pelt damaged, then..? No... chemical burns, burnt patches of hair or violently bitten open heads?"

Danicka looks slightly relieved.

---

Danicka stammers nervously and blushes deep red when the cabin boy asks after the cats. She wrings her hands nervously and looks at the floor in shame.

"P-p-p-rick-k-kles ate m-m-most of them..." She squeaks and stammers. Unfortunately, by the time she gets the words out they're an unintelligible whisper.

Danicka looks up to see the cabin boy gone, and spends the next entire day worrying over the harsh punishment that will surely befall her! ...Which never seems to come.

Nervous and jumpy she disembarks with Prickles in the Segang Jungle.

Giving Prickles a pat on the head she attempt to remind him what is and what is not for consumption.

At the sight of the old elephant, Danicka smiles brightly.

"Amazing!" she breathes.

Prickles growls angrily at the elephant that his pet seems so interested in.

Back! She's MINE!

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Forrest doesn't find much out after talking with the locals. However, after seeing the elephant, he marches to the front. He can have the tiger, but I'm not letting a giant gray behind stay between me and glory...

Before the Count climbs atop the elephant, Forrest taps his shoulder. "Excuse me sir, is there anything we need to know before entering the forest? Like, a secret? " The halfling flashes a knowing smile, ready for whatever devious scheme this noble reveals.

Danicka suddenly throws herself on her dog and gives him a big hug.

"Shhh shhh shhh! It's not as nice as YOU my dear! Of course not! Don't try to eat it."

Once her dog is calm she goes back to examining the elephant and tries to make friends with it.

Wild Empathy: 1d20 + 3 + 1d6 ⇒ (3) + 3 + (2) = 8

Unfortunately, it seems uninterested in her. With a forlorn look she turns to see the other people milling around, going about their business.

Be brave! This is a long trip! You can make some friends! Just try!

Danicka takes a deep breath and tries to strike up a conversation with the porters and local around her.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21

Shockingly, they all seem very friendly, and seem to like her just fine!

Back with the others she says, "The hunters told me some worrying news. A few other hunting parties have gone missing in the part of the jungle we're heading to. Also, there are reports that several independent groups are currently planning their own expeditions to our ancient temple!"

She frowns deeply. Then she suddenly smiles. "Oh, but I also hear that the Urupangi Lowlands are also called the 'Monkey Swamp'! Apparently there are monkeys residing in the area who many devout Vudrani claim have mystical powers! It's fascinating, isn't it?"

She seems very excited at the thought.

---

As they reach the hot, humid jungle, Danicka pulls out her wand and taps all of her friends with it, granting them all protection from the heat for the day. Then she warily approaches Needle and stammers, "Please don't eat my eyes..." She bravely taps him with the wand as well. Using a charge of endure elements on each of you.

Then she and Prickles find a spot in line in front of the elephant, but behind the guides.

During the journey Brock takes the Baron up on his offer to display his fine muskets, impressed with the quality of some of the weapons making his own hand crafted seem drab in comparison. Still, he enjoyed talking shop with fellow gunsmiths and enthusiasts.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

After chatting up the locals Thankfully they spoke common Brock gets his group aside and mentions.

"The locals say several hunting parties have gone missing recently, and there may be some competition for this temple we are looking for. Lets keep on our toes, we may have come competition and we all remember Thuvia, those Aspis folk can be downright unfriendly." he ends the comment with a viscous smile and far away look in his eye as he recalled his glorious charge on that poor bandit guard.

Seeing the "natural functions" of the giant elephant, Brock chooses to stay in front of the beast as they walk the trail, musket primed and ready.

standard lead ball in the musket and one of the two buckler barrels

Yaiho marvels at the elephant, never seeing such a creature before. But his thoughts quickly wander off into wondering how the elephant would taste.

At hearing that others might be heading for the temple, Yaiho nods about being ready for them. He pats his earthbreaker and smiles.

When the group is ready to begin their march, Yaiho joins Forrest in marching in front of the elephant. Not wanting the elephant to block him from getting to any prey.

Spending the rest of the trip working on alchemical supplies Rook is relieved to stretch at their destination even if it is a bit more humid than he has endured.

The dry heat of Thuvia does not seem so hellish from here...the last thing I want to do is march through this mess.

After hearing the briefing from the others Danicka approaches with a wand which he gladly accepts but when she asks to give it to Needle as well he waves it off.

"The little beast shouldn't need it. If he gets to uncomfortable he can climb back inside and spare us all from his antics." Rook laughs while tapping his head. Needle replies with an almost sad chirp and throws a chalk stick at his master.

As they prepare to head out he notices the noblemen riding in the canopy and decides that would be much more palatable than walking.

"Baron? I would enjoy hearing more about the equipment you brought along and how it is going to help us bring that trophy home for you. Not only that but as a member of The Exchange this seems like a grand opportunity for the future. Safaris, trade, and more! Shall I accompany you two above so we may discuss?" Rook says with his mercantile smile and dreaming of coins...raining explosions from above and large piles of coin.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

At Rook's words, Danicka looks suddenly relieved. But, she casts a look at Needle, not even wanting an eye-eating brain monster to suffer, "Well... If you're s-s-sure..." Got it! Saving the charge.

As they approach the entrance to the hot, humid jungle Arin remembers his warm-weather outfit from Thuvia. Didn't think I'd be using this again so soon.

After hearing Brock and Danicka's reports of rumors he considers the situation. "So the jungles may be a little crowded, but I suspect if we follow the reports of hunters going missing we'll find what we're looking for."

Arin looks at the size of the elephant and quickly decides he doesn't want to be behind it. However, he still shuffles to the back of their line in front of it.

"I think I would just be a tiny snack to this tigger."

"A secret?.." The count frowns, looking a little confused for a moment, then it suddenly clicks. "Oh!" He glances up a Rudyahm, who is currently deep in conversation with the mahout, then leans down towards Forrest and whispers. "It would be best if we hold off on this conversation until we are much deeper into the jungle. I'll come to you when the time is right, and somewhere... Somewhere a little more private." He touches his nose conspiratorially, then makes his way awkwardly into the howdah with his father-in-law.

As Rook calls up to the baron, the nobleman smiles down at him. "Ha! I'm always interested in hearing about new business opportunities, young man. If it's guns The Exchange is looking for, you've come to the right man. Come on up!" He waves Rook up into the howdah so that he can show off his exquisitely crafted musket and discuss possible business opportunities. A few minutes later, the hunting party sets forth into the jungle to the sounds of an old elephant trumpeting and the baron showing off his weapon to Rook. "...You see how this pulls back? Smoothest hammer strike you'll ever see, and this..." The rest of the Pathfinders decide to trek ahead of the elephant, their eyes open for Aspis agents, looters, and tiggers.

The trek is slow and a little claustrophobic, but game is scarce. "Don't worry!" The count explains at the end of the long day, and you are starting to set up camp in a clearing atop a low rise. "The animals are skittish close to the hunting lodge. We'll start finding the real trophies tomorrow when we're farther away. Then we'll see how that gun of yours measures up to Alkanstar engineering, eh?" He laughs and gives Brock a jovial slap on the back before heading off to oversee the construction of his tent. Although the everyone else looks incredibly uncomfortable with their relatively light clothes soaked through from the humidity and sweat, you all feel fresh and comfortable, even under your armour. The night passes uneventfully.

Early in the morning, while getting ready for the day ahead, you hear a loud crash and a scream coming from the count's tent. You presumably rush to investigate and arrive just as the baron, in only his long johns and boots, shaving foam all over his face and limping heavily without his cane, bursts into the tent. The interior of this spacious canvas tent is richly decorated with portable dark wood and silver furnishings. Torn mosquito netting hangs above the bed, and a mirror, basin, and various shaving implements lie scattered on the ground. A black leather boot lies on the floor next to the crumpled remains of a large black spider. "What the devil happened in here?" Baron Rudyahm asks as he enters. Those of you who follow him inside see Count Matsanda lying on the bed, clutching his bare right foot in pain. The count replies in a fearful voice, "Something in my boot bit me—a spider I think. I fell back onto the bed in surprise. My god, Bomande, what if it’s poisonous? I could lose the foot! You brought some antitoxin, didn't you? Fetch it quickly!" Unfazed, the Baron replies, "Ah, a bit of luck then. The spiders of Segang aren't dangerous, not like the scorpions. It'll probably smart for a bit, that's all. Next time, check your damn boots!"

Count Matsanda is not assured by the promises of his father-in-law, and the two men begin to argue. After an uncomfortable few minutes, they each start to look to you for support. Still clutching his foot and sounding deathly afraid, the count pleads. "You have to talk some sense into him! I can already feel my foot going numb, I will lose it if I do not get that antitoxin soon... Or worse, my whole leg!" Baron Rudyahm dismisses the count's claims with a wave of the hand and steps away from Matsanda and closer to you. "Bah! I packed some antitoxin alright, but it would be a waste to use it on a malingerer."

If you look at the spider...

Yaiho moves over and looks down at the spider. Of course, he has no clue about it. "Interesting spider. Yaiho never see the like before. Wonder how it taste grilled."

Brock grunts at the spider and looks to Rook. "I don't know spiders, but if its poisonous we might find it useful, eh Rook?"

Knowledge Nature: 1d20 + 11 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 11 + (2) = 23
Heal: 1d20 + 6 + 1d6 ⇒ (14) + 6 + (6) = 26

Danicka comes rushing into the room in a panic. "What is it?!"

At hearing about the Count's wound, Danicka looks worried. "Oh, dear! Let me take a look!"

She hurries over to inspect the spider, and then the Count's foot. Then she lets out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, we're very lucky! This spider's not very dangerous, and you're not suffering from any poison. You're going to be just fine, sir!" Danicka smiles brightly. "Now, it is going to sting a bit, much like a bee sting, and you might get a tad of red swelling, but that's just your body healing itself. You'll be right as rain in a few minutes."

Danicka stands up and brushes herself off. Then she looks at Yaiho, "And yes... I suppose you could eat it if you wanted, Yaiho. It won't harm you."

She shivers at the thought and looks a little green.

Forrest follows the group in, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Oh, so I can stop stabbing those? I thought they were poisonous too, Count." He shrugs and wipes green goo off the end of his rapier on the bottom of the tent. "Never can be to careful in the jungle! But we have a long day tomorrow. Maybe we should get some sleep."

The demonstrations bring a glint of longing to his eye...a new way to deliver fiery destruction. Too advanced for the orcs back home but not for him so he takes to learning the function of the guns with the Baron.

Rook discusses the use of alchemical cartridges in firearms and how one of their companions uses one...albeit more primitive. He then continues his talks to finalize his business arrangements or at least get the Baron and Count to The Exchange's table.

Diplomacy 17 (Season 9 Goal): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"I haven't trained on firearms myself as I typically throw all my ordinance by hand but I have heard of your gun-chemists who marry the two perfectly. Maybe we can talk Brock into stepping into something more advanced. If not I can at least make sure your cartridges are perfect for this hunt and more business can be had after we celebrate the death of this beast!" Rook laughs with a wink.

---

Hearing the commotion Rook jumps up and heads to the tent.

I can't have my new business partners getting killed!

He can't fully contain a deep fit of laughter as the situation unfolds but he does his due diligence in helping examine the spider and calm the Count...

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

Rook turns to Brock and the Count after he too inspects the spider.

"Danicka and the Baron are correct. Not an ounce of usable liquid in a spider like that...unless you have a taste for spider guts. You will be fine sir!" Rook says almost disappointed and tossing the bug to Yaiho.

Yaiho takes the spider and leaves the tent, he heads to the nearest campfire and proceeds to pierce the spider with a stick before placing it over the flame to grill.

I forgot to say last time, but from now on, I'll assume your marching order is the same each day unless you state otherwise. You're free to stay in the howdah, Rook, The Exchange is a big organisation, and there should be plenty to discuss in the forthcoming partnership with the baron. ;)

Count Matsanda accepts the Danicka's diagnosis without question, looking mightily relieved when Rook corroborates the conclusions with an inspection of the spider. "Thank you Danicka, and you, Mhazruk. It is just that... Well, as Forrest said, you never can tell in a place like this..." He takes a deep breath and looks down at his foot. "It is just a bee sting!" Baron Rudyahm, with his face covered in quickly drying shaving soap, looks a little peeved that the count wouldn't believe him and shakes his head as he ambles out of the tent, mumbling something about the youth of today and pampered rich kids. He does, however, give the Pathfinders a respectful nod as he passes.

With the excitement over, most of you return to your tents and get ready for the day ahead. However, Yaiho immediately heads to the nearest campfire, and grills his spider until it is beautifully crispy on the outside and soft in the middle. Unfortunately, it tastes a little bland, somewhere between chicken and (oddly enough) cod, it might be best to try some seasoning or spices next time. After you have all had breakfast, Count Matsanda approaches Forrest quietly while Rudyahm is checking over the supplies with the porters on the other side of the camp. "It is time for that talk. Can you please gather your fellow Pathfinders, but be subtle." He looks left and right, before whispering. "Make sure the baron does not find out about this." Once everyone is gathered somewhere suitably private, Matsanda confides in you. "I was already planning this, but after what happened this morning, I am more committed to this course of action than ever. Pathfinders, I need you to help me kill..." He checks around nervously, "I need you to help me kill something that will impress the baron. I was already holding on to his respect by a thread, and now... Well, I lost face with my father-in-law this morning, and I absolutely must bag something spectacular to get back into his good books. But you see, I am not much of a hunter," he admits. "In fact, I have never really been hunting before! Is there any help or advice you can give me?"

If you choose to help, let me know what you plan to do and give me an appropriate skill check. You have been given freedom to do as you wish, just so long as you can come up with a good reason to use the skill. It could be some sort of action during the hunt itself (bluff to pass off your kill as the count's, for example) or by providing some specific advice (know. nature or survival,) or anything else you can think of. Be creative and have fun. ;)

I also need to know who would like to participate in the hunt yourselves. This is just a general day's hunting, not for the tiger. If you're interested, give me an attack roll as well as a d8 roll. You do not need to roll damage, and the attack can be either ranged or melee, though magic is frowned upon. The Baron does have extra light and heavy crossbows you can use as well.

"Of course! Business partners are taken care of with great attention to detail. The key piece of information is to kill it before it has the chance to kill you...but since you are new to hunting let's find something more up to your speed." Rook says a little concerned about this plan but starts looking through any manuals nearby and his own knowledge of beasts in the area.

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

"I may have some ideas but today's hunt may prove useful as well. Do you think the other hunters would find bombs distasteful on the hunt?"

Are bombs frowned upon too?

"Thank you! Any advice will be most welcome." Count Matsanda says as he pushes his spectacle back up his nose with an index finger. "These books say all sorts of things about how dangerous the beasts are around here, but they contain precious little information for killing them before they kill you." When asked about the bombs, he shakes his head. "As long as they are not significantly louder than a musket, I do not see and reason why bombs would be problematic. Although... I imagine that one would have to get mighty close to hunt that way. Sounds rather dangerous to me."

Bombs should be fine. ;)

Arin is listening in to Rook's explanation to the count and comes up with some ideas of his own.

"Can you climb reasonably well? Maybe you can take a post up in a tree and patiently wait to strike with a crossbow."

Survival: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13

"To be completely honest with you though, I'm not really a hunter and I won't bother participating in today's hunt. Such trophies are not what I seek in life."

No hunting for Arin.

Forrest smiles and palms the noble's purse.

Sleight of Hand: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

He laughs and hands the purse back. "Count, even the small and weak can poise a threat when underestimated. If your prey believes that they are the hunter and not the hunted, they will give you an opportunity to strike." He pulls his rapier out and balances it on a finger. "Finesse, stealth and a quick hand can be just as deadly as a strong blow."

Forrest goes out ahead of the party, rapier held down along his side. Close and personal, just how I like it.

Rapier: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
D8?: 1d8 ⇒ 5

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

"Show no fear. Animals can sense fear. When time comes, don't back down from the prey and strike true."

Yaiho joins Forrest to confront prey. But instead of selecting his earthbreaker, he decides to go all natural and hunt with his bite.

Razortusk: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
D8?: 1d8 ⇒ 1

Count Matsanda nods along to the advice, and laughs as Forrest returns his purse. "Would you look at that! Speed and finesse indeed. So I need to show no fear, lure the beasts out, or maybe find a perch?" Surprisingly, he seems less convinced about that last option, even if he does plan to use his musket. He shakes Arin's hand. "In that case, I will leave you in charge of the camp, Arin. Make sure our supplies are kept safe from scavaging animals, and keep the porters out of my tent." Excited for the prospect of impressing his father-in-law, the count rushes off to get ready.

Soon the hunt gets underway, and Forrest practices as he preaches, heading out into the jungle ahead of the main group, but not completely out of sight, his rapier held close to his side. He walks casually through the dangerous territory, practically alone, for about an hour, then it happens in the blink of an eye. A leopard jumps out of the underbrush by Forrest's side, it's great maw fixing to wrap around his neck, but the fearless halfling dodges the pounce with uncanny speed and flashes his sword. The large cat drops dead at his feet, a hole punctured through an artery on its neck. Apparently, Forrest had noticed the leopard about half an hour before it pounced, and waited patiently as the cat stalked ever closer, luring it out of hiding. Even so, the gambit was risky, and had the blade gone just millimetres in any direction, Forrest would be face to face with a very angry leopard right now. You just hit the AC. :)

"Huzzah!" Count Matsanda cheers, his eyes wide in disbelief as he approaches from the distant safety of the rest of the hunting party. "That was truly something." He then watches as Yaiho demonstrates the no fear, head-on approach to hunting. Every time there is a rustle in the undergrowth, the large half-orc jumps in to investigate with teeth bared, hoping for another leopard, or perhaps something bigger. After several false alarms with small birds, he finally comes face to face with a true predator. The golden jackal snarls at Yaiho, showing its own teeth, spittle foaming at the corners of its mouth. After a tense standoff that seems to last forever, they both pounce on each other. There's a flurry of activity, flashing teeth and splattered blood, but after only moments, the victor stands triumphantly over his quarry. The jackal has a great chunk ripped out of its neck, and Yaiho will be picking fur out of his teeth for the rest of the day. The count can't believe his eyes. "I must say, you Pathfinders are a little more direct than I was expecting. I am not entirely sure your methods of hunting are entirely suited to my own skillset." Still, he is taking notes, trying to be as brave as the Pathfinders as he searches for a trophy of his own with the stock of his musket firmly pressed into his shoulder.

The count could still use some help from Brock and Danicka, but he has had enough advice for now and the hunt is underway. Is there anything else you can do to help out? Of course, if you don't want to take part in the hunt itself, the count might return to camp at some point and you can help him then somehow. ;)

Brock listens to Rook and Forrest's advice before offering, "I've been talking to the guides and locals, I might have some ideas where we can find a beast worth killing."

Know (Local): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Once the Count is off working on his hunt, Brock grabs his musket and goes looking for something interesting to shoot himself.

Maybe make myself a nice cold weather cloak out of something furry and colorful

Musket Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23 vs touch

Not much help for the count, but methinks some beastie is dead

Danicka blushes brightly, and smiles. "You're very welcome, Count Matsanda."

"Hunting?" Danicka pales. "Oh, I d-d-don't kill things."

---

Seeing that the Count is having trouble finding a target, Danicka looks around for some tracks or other signs of an animals in the vicinity.

Survival: 1d20 + 8 + 1d6 ⇒ (10) + 8 + (5) = 23

She waves over the Count. "Look. See here? These are animals tracks. Looks like...." Something cool and not too dangerous, hopefully...

"Use your head and this one could be yours."

She whispers a few words in an ancient tongue and places a hand on the Count's shoulder. Casting guidance on him.

"Good luck. And... be brave. That's what I always try to do..." She blushes brightly at the embarrassing admission.

Wow, that 15 scared me! Glad I didn't get eaten.

Forrest smirks and throws the beast over his shoulder. He takes it back and hands it to the Baron. "I'm sure your hunt of the tiger will be just as glorious! "

Hehe, yeah, it was a close one, Forrest. Rook, you can still hunt if you want, but I just wanted to move us along a little. Just give me your rolls and the sort of thing you plan to do and we'll see if you're successful in an evening hunt with the baron. ;)

What?: 1d8 ⇒ 7

As Brock makes his way through the jungle, he suddenly hears a deep, throaty, *AAAARROOOOOooo* to the north. He turns to see the rustle of leaves, birds flying out of bushes, and two porters running as fast as they can towards him. They're shouting all sorts of things in panicked vudrani as they run pass, shedding the supplies they were hired to carry. Brock, however, stands firm and raises his musket, waiting for the beast to show itself. He doesn't have to wait long, as moments later over two and a half thousand pounds of muscle comes tearing through the undergrowth right towards him. The horns of the bad-tempered guar are squarely aimed at the cavalier gunman's midsection as it thunders forwards, knocking everything in its path flying. Brock's aim is truer than ever, and with a single shot through the eye, the guar tumbles to the floor, it's immense weight and momentum carrying it sliding forward until it eventually halts at Brock's feet. Almost seven foot tall at the shoulder, this creature will provide plenty of food for the rest of the trip, and a good deal of leather for clothes too.

Meanwhile, Count Matsanda is following the trail Danicka pointed out, feeling a warm glow of confidence afforded by the divine guidance. Remembering all the advice Rook gave him about how to kill his quarry before it kills him, and Forrest's advice to act quickly and to use the creature's tendency to underestimate smaller animals against it, the count stalks ever closer to his target. Shortly after, the count is beside himself, the adrenaline pumping as his porters are dragging his prize back to the camp. A magnificent sloth bear that is sure to impress Rudyahm. He thanks you all profusely for your help.

Back at camp, Baron Rudyahm seems reasonably satisfied with the morning's hunt. "Ha! It'll be glorious indeed. You've bagged yourself a fine trophy there, but bagging that tiger... The feeling will be incomparable." He says cheerfully to Forrest as the halfling returns with his prize. "Speaking of, we should pack up camp and get moving. That damned tiger is still over a days march away, and I need to sit down. My blasted leg is killing me!" He wipes away the sweat from his forehead with his arm and limps off, using his finely crafted walking cane to point as he bellows orders for the camp to be packed up.

It's not long before you're back on the trail again, most of you walking ahead of the elephant and Rook enjoying the shade in the howdah. As noon approaches, Danicka's spell starts to wear off, and the suffocating heat and humidity that you've seen affecting the porters begins to weigh on you also. Your clothes start to become uncomfortable with moisture, and it proves very difficult to cool. Having already spent an entire day Segang, you know that it will cool down to a more tolerable level in a couple of hours, but will that be soon enough?

An hour before noon, and two hours after, it gets very hot under the canopy of the jungle. Thanks to the endure elements Danicka cast on everybody yesterday, you didn't have to worry about it then and only have to endure two hours of the heat today. As such, it may be possible to just power through without too much difficulty given a good night's sleep at the end of the day. I say that because you're expecting to stay on duty in the jungle for another day or two, so you might want to save on charges. The rules are spoilered below. ;)

do the hot weather clothes I picked up in Thuvia and am wearing (I hope I pointed that out...) help? derp. Reading fail. I assume a breastplate counts as heavy armor

Yep I'm going to assume that anyone who bought hot weather clothes in Thuvia are going to be wearing them now, and they provide a +2. Any armour (including your breastplate) gives the -4 penalty. ;)

Fort 1: 1d20 + 6 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (17) + 6 + 2 - 4 = 21
Fort 2: 1d20 + 6 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 2 - 4 = 16

Brock groans as Danicka's magic wears off and the oppressive heat hits him like a ton of bricks.

This is even worse than the desert, at least that was dry heat

He thinks as he fights to keep putting one foot in front of the other while keeping a eye out for further beasts, ambushes, or other trouble.

Not for the first time he missed his old studded leather, as the weight of his breastplate weighs him down. He knew, however, that the next time he had a monster trying to rip his heart out he would appreciate the thick steel guarding his vitals.

Despite the discomfort, he grits his teeth and soldiers on.

As soon as it gets hot, Danicka uses her wand of endure elements on her companions again.

"Oh, dear it's hot here!."

Preparing for the evening hunt Rook downs his extract and mutagen to give him an edge then sets out with a bomb in hand.

Bomb vs. Touch: 1d20 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 8
Hunt: 1d8 ⇒ 3

Ugh.

---

Knowing that he brought supplies enough to carry for the days he mixes up some extracts to save Danicka more charges by keeping himself cool.

"This heat is a damned menace but my extract will keep me going for now. I appreciate the offer."

This will save you some charges at least since I won't be burning every extract each day of travel.

Seeing Danicka come around with her wand Brock waves her away with a muttered, "I'm find thanks, save it for tomorrow. It's almost night."

Yaiho thanks Danicka for the endure element spell, he seems to be more prone to heat stroke since he grew up in the cold environment of a mountain.

He spends the night, when not on guard duty. Cleaning his kill for eating as well as removing the pelt for possible use later on.

Survival, DC 15: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (20) - 2 = 18

Forrest feels the heat and immediately drops to the floor and starts rolling. He rolls in the dirt, and upends his water container on his body. Within minutes the halfling is covered by mud. "Ah, that feels better. Nothing like a little mud!" He sees Danicka comes by and refuses the charge. "Ah, I'm ok. Thank you. Since the day is almost over, natural remedies should go for me!"

He offers some mud to three of his other companions, offering to help with the heat.

Fortitude, DC 15: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 3 + 2 = 19
Fortitude, DC 16: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 2 = 20

In the muggy heat under the jungle canopy Arin begins to wish he'd sprung for that mithral shirt. The standard issue steel chain links are starting to hold unpleasant moisture against his body. The lighter out layer does help, but when Danicka comes by with her wand he's uncharacteristically eager for the relief.

For the rest of the day he seems more aloof than usual. He particularly avoids the celebration of trophies that occurs after the various hunts.

Perhaps I can just help with keeping companions out of danger while they hunt this tigger. This is quite strange for a sanctioned mission. Perhaps if I'm lucky I'll find some clear signs of my purpose in the junge...

Apart from experiencing the uncomfortable heat and humidity for the first time since landing on the island, the rest of the day's trek is uneventful. As the camp is getting set up, the baron invites Rook to an evening hunt so that he might see some of those alchemical goods in action. The count, now with an impressive kill under his belt, is also invited along. Just off the trail, they come across a small stream and decide to follow it for a spell in case they find anything taking an evening drink. The baron spots it first, a large crocodile bathing at the side of the stream, "It's all yours." He whispers. Unfortunately, Rook's aim is off, and the glass vial explodes just short of the reptile and it plops into the water never to be seen again. "Haha! Well, at least we had a good show, eh?" He slaps Rook on the back and puts his arm around the alchemist's shoulder. "Don't worry lad! Happens to the best of us. I don't think those bombs are for me anyway. But, if you can simulate effects like that in paper cartridges... well, that might be something. Come on, let's get back to the camp. Tomorrow's going to be a big day!"

The next morning, you wake to the smell of wood smoke as porters busy themselves tending various cooking fires. Outside the camp, the jungle is alive with the sounds of monkeys, birds, and chirping insects. You find that, except for the Jackel which Yaiho cleaned himself, the porters have skinned, butchered, and cooked (or preserved) the game you bagged yesterday. Animal pelts have been hung out to dry by dwindling fires, soon to be returned to the hunters who caught them, and you are served a hearty breakfast of assorted meats. However, the smell of food soon attracts the attention of a band of macaques that gather at the edge of the camp. At first, they just seem to be trying to figure out what's going on, but they soon start to cause trouble by overturning containers, stealing trinkets, and raiding unguarded food supplies. Reactions to the monkeys differ in the camp. The porters act reverentially toward them and offer them prayers along with bits of food and water. Baron Rudyahm, however, acts somewhat differently.

"Aaaagh! They've come for me!" He limps out of his tent, musket in hand, yelling at the top lungs, "The Charau-ka are everywhere! The Gorilla King must have sent his best warriors to finish me off. Men, form a... a... line?" He blinks the sleep out of his bleary eyes and looks around, slowly coming to his senses. He lowers his musket and sneers at the small primates. "Bah! I detest monkeys... Pathfinders! I don't care how you do it, but get these damned things out of my camp!" Bootless and wearing only his long johns, the baron trudges back into his tent, clutching his musket to his chest and grumbling.

Do you try to rid the camp of the monkeys? If so, how do you plan on doing it? Or do you choose to leave the monkeys be?

Brock crawls from his tent, musket in hand as the baron yells about Monkey Kings or some other nonsense.

Seeing the actual problem he snorts at the disturbance, seeing no need to kill the monkies yet. Looking over to Danicka, he asks.

"Seems like a job for Prickles, doesn't it?"

Yaiho goes out and examines the plants. Looking for something specifically that monkey's would find the smell of repulsive. Like mint plants does to mosquitoes.

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

Forrest looks around a takes notice of the natives' response. "I feel like our conventional 'stab the thing' strategy might insult our friends here. And Danicka. " He smirks and runs towards the crates which are being ransacked by the monkeys.

"Hey! Get your GRUBBY MITS OFF THERE! " He yells at the creatures, jumping up and down and waving his arms, trying to scare the beasts away.

Intimidate : 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

"Even when these bombs miss they cause quite a noise. That might be enough to scare them off! I would aim directly at them but those porters might take offense...and they are the ones cooking." Rook says to the others.

"Hmm, I agree Rook, I don't think we can solve our problem right here and not disturb our cooks. Why don't we take just one jar of meat to draw the monkeys away. Say, a mile or so. Perhaps then we can scare them away permanently where we won't offend the porters?"

Unfortunately, Yaiho doesn't find anything of use in the immediate area. In fact, he's not even sure what would be useful short of the dung of a large predator. While he's searching, Forrest approaches the crates where some of the monkeys are stealing trinkets, jumping up and down and making as much noise as he can. "OOooh AAACH!" They screech back, before scattering. However, they don't go far and once at a safe distance, they start to crowd together in little gangs for protection. One enterprising monkey, feeling brave now that it's surrounded by his buddies, throws something unspeakable towards the waving halfling.

Unfortunately, intimidation didn't seem to work as desired and instead of leaving, they're starting to act a little aggressive.

Some of the monkeys, however, are still more interested in the food on display than they are with Forrest. One knocks over a cooking pot and runs away screeching, and others appear to laugh before getting closer to the hot meal scattered all over the floor.

If you want to try and lead them away with food, Arin, I'd need a handle animal or charisma check. ;)