[PFS] The Broken GM's Black Waters (Inactive)

Game Master Broken Prince

On a brisk fall evening, a Pathfinder Society venture-captain named Drandle Drenge welcomes the PCs into his modest Absalom home for an impromptu meeting. He offers chairs and drinks, wipes sweat from his brow, and dives into business.

Once everyone is settled, Venture-Captain Drandle Drenge, a stout and hardy Taldan with thin, graying hair and a thick, bushy moustache, unfurls a map on his butcher-block table and places a meaty finger on the parchment,

"The abandoned district of Beldrin’s Bluff was once the gem of Absalom’s Precipice District — now it is but a weathered crag of broken rock at the edge of the roiling sea. When the great quake hit ten years ago, entire blocks of the Bluff sheared from the mainland. Cliffside tearooms and exclusive estates fell into the waves and carried hundreds of nobles to a watery grave. An elite academy, called the Tri-Towers Yard, remained on the mainland, but sank wholesale into the earth."

He pauses for a somber moment, letting this next bit settle in.

"Children unfortunate enough to survive the quake lay pinned under debris as sewer water slowly rose from the ground and drowned them. Nearly every student perished. . ."

"Today, crumbled stone walls and weed-filled lots sprawl where gentlemen’s clubs once filled with pipe smoke and hobnobbing lords. The Drownyard -er, that’s what the ill-mannered call the school these days —lies behind a fence of black iron pikes, constructed by the families of the dead to discourage morbid trespassers. Even respected archaeological groups have been denied official access. Our own Society has itched to explore the site ever since the quake — that is, ever since we discovered that the school fell through the roof of a lost necropolis. Unfortunately, the emotional trauma attached to the school has remained fresh. But finally, after ten years of mourning, the politically-connected families of dead students have sanctioned our delve request.”

With a toothy smile and a clap, Drenge says, “I’m pleased to announce that I’ve selected your team for the delve. I want you to find a way into the necropolis, document your findings with professional detail, and recover artifacts of historical significance. The Society is interested in one artifact in particular — a two-finger ring topped with a ruby salamander.”

After a small break, he adds, "It is important to remember that even though this all happened years ago, for a lot of the families involved, many of which have great pull, this is still a open wound. Tread carefully, and be professional."

You may attempt to learn more about the Tri-Towers Yard with Gather Information or Knowledge Local.

Rogar broods over the tale just related by the venture-captain with a mix of pity for the dead children and joy for finally being selected for an official mission. "It was past time I was selected for something and not left to collect dust in some old and musty library! I need to make a good impression here, otherwise this can very well be the last assignment I will see in a long while... and I can't affford that!" he thinks.

The warrior listens avidly to the captain's orders, eager to serve. When Drenge finishes relating his orders Rogar quickly steps up and asks:"Is there anything else you can tell us about this ring the society is so keen on retrieving from the ruins? The fact you mentioned it in particular seems significant... any chances for it to be magical? And if so... what kind of magic should we expect?"

Drenge nods, "In ancient times, a wealthy merchant cut a ruby salamander ring from the hand of young cat burglar named Horastian. Horastian later became a renowned information broker and art collector. The Pathfinder Society hopes to magically locate the long-dead thief and his fabled hoard by using the ring as a divination focus. It was last known to be down there somewhere, but where exactly that might be, we couldn't say."

Wily! But I should expect no less from our masters in the society... seems like this could be the stroke of luck I was waiting for!"

The young fighter bows his head to his superior and motions for the others:"Unless we have other questions I suggest we stop wasting the captain's time and get to these ruins. We've got some ruins to explore and a ring to find, and the sooner we do it, the better!"

I don't think Rogar has the right knowledges to try a roll... and besides he's just too excited to finally see some action I guess :P

Alafair listens intently to the briefing, her limited exposure to the Pathfinders teaching her that many important facts are included herein. She copies down some notes in her journal thinking: "How elite could any acadamy on this gods-forsaken island be. I'm sure this school is nothing compared to the ones I attended in fair Taldor. At least mine is still standing..."

Realizing she had heard to the Tri-Towers Yard before, during her time in Absalom, Alafair tried to remember the exact details.

Know Local: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

"Captain Drenge, how are we supposed to get past this pike fence now? If it still stands, won't we have issues entering the old school?"

Drendle Drenge pulls an iron key from his waistcoat, "I leave you with the key to the Drownyard gate. Remember the Drownyard is a deeply personal site for many powerful Inner Sea families. You will tread upon the graves of their children. Be sure to give the site the respect it deserves."

It will be as you say Master Drenge, rumbles Yarg in a basso voice.

As a figure he is certainly imposing - his 'fallen' heritage showing through in his toughened leather like skin (which seems scaled if examined closely) and his red eyes. His build is both tall and thickly muscled.

I will be as respectful as if the General of Vengeance himself were next to me... may His Eyes fall on me, he says.

He wears a cloak pin of a sword crossed over an angel wing, and a wooden holy symbol of the same design.

Yarg will attempt to learn more of the site via his contacts at the Lodge.

Diplomacy - Gather Information 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21

Diplomacy to Aid: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10

The burly orc in the room nods solemnly and reaches out to accept the key. "We will," he affirms, his deep voice rumbling through the room.

As he looks over at those who will accompany him, the light catches his face. His right cheek is scarred with the emblem of a sword, blade down, with rays of light emanating from its hilt. "I am Mrachni," he says, looking over his new companions. "What should I call you?"

Well met Follower of The Lady of Valour. I am Yarg, servant of Ragathiel, and although his Will in bringing me into the Society is not yet clear to me, I am ready to serve the Pathfinders as well... which, he looks around, includes you all as well

Alafair rolls her eyes at the monstrous creatures she is paired with in this enterprise. "Just once couldn't it be a handsome, noble cavalier, rather than an orc and a demonspawn?"

Trying not to let her indignation show (but doing a poor job of it), she smiles patronizinlgy at the boys.

"I am Alafair, Lady of Taldor, and sorceress of the arcane arts. I am glad to make your acquaintance, and look forward to a quick resolution of this issue."

She offers her hand in the Taldor style.

Mrachni raises one eyebrow at the identification. He knows her... that's good.

At the human's introduction, he extends his own hand a bit stiffly, as if the formal greeting is odd but not unknown to him. "Are you all prepared to leave?"

The group's inquries turn up little of note that Drandle Drenge has not already made them aware of, but as they prepare to depart a smartly dressed man in blue and purple livery approaches Yarg. Bowing he presents unfurls and presents a delicate, but clearly expensive, parchment to the Inquisitor,

Invitation

After all the anxiety and the excitement for the first time Rogar takes notice of his would be companions:"Mmmmh now that I think of it we've got quite the colorful company here, an half-orc follower of Iomedae and some kind of tiefling... but the most dangerous by far seems to be the lady. A fine flower straight out of Oppara if I'm not mistaken. I'd better thread carefully there, I got the impression I know her type and she could be very bad news... or very good ones for that matter..."

With a strange smile on his lips Rogar cleanes his throat and salutes the other pathfinders:"Yes, I guess a presentation is in order if we are to work togheter. I'm Rogar from the most noble line of the Valertis from the bastion of Zimar, in southern Taldor, I'm a warrior by trade and I'm sure togheter we'll make the Society proud! And to answer your question.... Mrachni, right? I think we should go... unless that message has something important enough to delay us any further..." concludes the taldan pathfinder with an hint of impatience in his voice.

Yarg reads the invitation.

Seems we are invited to a dinner party. Full formal dress is required - It seems that one of the Supporters of the Society, a Lady Miranda Dacilane, wishes to honour her daughters memory... Junia her name was.

He trails off and reads some more silently.

We'll need to be in the Ivy District by Sundown tomorrow. I think that's enough time to do some shopping.

I intend to go armed so I'd best make it full military garb... I've been hankering for a Masterwork Breastplate set anyways - brand new it shouldn't smell. And the Tien have bought to our shores such a thing as Silken Ceremonial Armor, which can be worn over less formal armours... or at least buy a uniform that you can associate with your background that you can wear.

Lets get cracking pathfinders... we'll meet back here an hour to Sunset tomorrow to allow plenty of time. Spend your coin well. Won't do to make a bad impression, he says in a deep growling voice.

Now... any other investigations needed you think?

Had 15 from creation. 412+419 from Chronicles = 846gp. A number of purchases and sales... Selling Four Mirror Armour - Gain 22.5gp, Selling Backpack - gain 1gp, selling Thieves tools - gain 15gp. Selling 3 Javelins - gain 1.5gp, ... Total sold = 40gp . new total gold = 886gp. Buying Soldiers Uniform (Ragathiels formal military livery) 5gp, MW Thieves tools 100gp, MW Backpack 50gp, MW Breastplate armour 350gp, 1 Holy Water 25gp, 1 Alchemist Fire 20gp 1 Alchemist Acid 10gp Sling (Free), 10 sling stones 1sp. Total spent 560gp 1sp. New total = 285gp 9 sp. Will update character tomorrow

DM, what time is it now?

Mrachni frowns a bit. "Would it be wise to delay our mission so long?" he asks, turning to Drandle in question.

After gathering information at the Society Lodge it is now well past sunset, and though Drenge would likely not favour dithering he conveyed no special urgency - and he did emphasise that you be respectful of the victims families.

Hours: 1d4 ⇒ 4

The muscular orc nods. "I have little familiarity with... formal dress. I will perhaps also try to find something more appropriate to wear."

He frowns thoughtfully. "I do not believe I should try to appear as one of them, but I am unfamiliar with the customs here. Servant of Ragathiel, do you know what would be acceptable?"

Heh, apparently I never gave Mrachni his starting outfit. :P

Addressing Rogar, Alafair says: "So you are one of our country cousins? Well met, countryman. Even if it is a bit unfortunate to be from Zimar, I'm sure you understand..." She offers her hand to him again, palm down.

Seeing they are invited to a noble dinner party, Alafair sighs. "What could be more charming than this little town's noblewomen having a dinner party. And won't we, the great loutish hodgepodge of us, make great guests. This will only end one way..."

"Wear what you will, warpriest. Putting carpet in a privy doesn't make it a parlor. Be what you are. There is no bolder fashion statement than that! Just try, for the love of the gods, try really hard, not to embarrass me, or the Society."

With that, Alafair heads to her apartments to find some fancy gown to wear to the party. Heading to a cavalcade of dress shops, she asks around about Miranda Dacilane, to see if there is any gossip or stories among the courtiers of the upper crust.

Gather Info/Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

The next day eager society gossips at various dress shops and emporiums gladly regail Alafair with tales of Lady Dacilane. The rub seems to be she is one of the richest nobles in the city, renowned for lavish banquets - ten courses or so - that she has been grief stricken by the loss of her daughter, Junia, and still keeps a great painting of her above her long table, and that she has little love for common folk. There is also talk of a great many suitors, for the widow, but none have gained the slightest hint of interest from the Lady since her daughters death.

The muscular orc nods. "I have little familiarity with... formal dress. I will perhaps also try to find something more appropriate to wear."

He frowns thoughtfully. "I do not believe I should try to appear as one of them, but I am unfamiliar with the customs here. Servant of Ragathiel, do you know what would be acceptable?"

Military garb. It fits many occasions. Shine up your armour, get yourself a uniform and perhaps some Silken Ceremonial armour - it isn't that expensive as I recall and make sure your kit is in first class order. You wear the ceremonial armour over your armour proper. Make sure to have any marks of distinction and the Emblem of the Inheritor sewn into it.

He grins.

If you still look like a privy and not a palour afterwards, at least you'll be a well fortified one.

Do we have any indication either way of whether the 'formal dress' requirement is a mechanical one? That is, whether we'd suffer consequences for walking up in armor versus a courtier's outfit and jewelry combo.

"Aye, Sleepin' Beauty!" Slachagok greets the Taldane sorceress. "No s'prise they sent out all us muscle, then--Society's gotta protect its Azlanti savanti."

Though if Dreng had expected us to be invited to a noble's memorial, the Abadarian warrior muses, looking around at the gathered group, he might yet have invited a few more courtly characters.

posting on discussion board

Rogar formally answers Alfair's gesture:"Unfortunate? Why milday we are the most fortunate of all, we get the chance to spill quadiran blood so that delicate flowers like you can enjoy the beauty of fair Oppara undisturbed. We would ask for nothing more, believe me, defending Taldor is our duty and privilege".

"And a fat lot of good it did to us... And what's this matter with the message? A formal dinner? We get to waste other time... but the captain clearly stated we should not anger the parents of the deceased children. And this invitation seems more like an order than a request to me. Oh, well... let's at least hope the host is pleasant

Bowing away from Alfair, Rogar adresses the rest of the companions:"Well. it seems like we'll be delayed. I suggest we met near the estate of this Lady Dacilane, attend to her commemoration, hear what she has to tell us and then get to attend our business with these ruins. What do you think? Is that a plan we can agree on?"

Rogar will buy military garb too, I have 22 gp so my new total goes to 17 gp Edit: If you have nothing against it I suggest we move on from here

No just the info you have IC.

Yarg will spend that day shopping and polishing, preparing to look resplendent at the event

Where are you guys getting that a soldier's uniform is 5gp? All the sources I'm seeing say 1gp (weighs 5lbs).

Mrachni nods at Yarg's suggestion, chuckling softly and shaking his head at the last bit. He'll spend the next day cleaning his armor, purchasing a good quality soldier's uniform, and having it sewn with Iomedae's symbol. He's gonna skip the silken ceremonial armor... too floofy. :P

"Tomorrow evening, then." he says, casting a last glance around the room at his 'companions' for this venture. The servant of Ragathiel can be trusted, at least.

"I guess it's settled. Have a good night everyone, we'll see each others tomorrow at the Lady Dacilane's estate" Rogar salutes the others and then is gone.

"Whatever. Let me have a beer or three, I guess I won't be getting any tomorrow evening, so let's honor Cayden now that I can!"

Going back in time a bit.

Alafair smiles warmly at Slachagok, their shared adventure in the Mwangi Expanse still fresh in her memory.

"Bring your blades, my friend. As with most Pathfinder missions, I am sure they will be put to good use protecting me and my magiks. It is good to see you amongst this crowd. Hopefully they will rise to our level of past success."

As Rogar answers courteously to her snide comment, Alafair relents: "It is well spoken, sir. And we, who have stood by as flowers in the garden thank you. Hopefully, you will continue acting as my safeguard on this mission. I have a feeling your steel and my enchantments will be put to the test before we are done."

Provided we meet together before arriving at the estate.

Alafair shares her acquired knowledge of the Lady Dacilane and her many suitors and great grief over her lost child. She also shares the gossip that the lady has little love for the common folk. She goes about, polishing and re-arranging the military uniforms for the rougher crowd, readying them for the lavish evening.

Soldier's Outfits look to be 1gp to me to - please adjust your character sheets accordingly - and from the description I am lead to believe its a field outfit, a grunts outfit rather than an officers. You could add decorative trim which has a cost of between 1sp and 50gp and such soldier's outfits can certainly look smart - but I'd say they are not dress uniforms.

The group arrange to meet up shortly before sunset and in their "finest" and make their way to the Ivy District and the sprawling opulance of the Dacilane Mansion. The estate is surrounded by a forbidding, yet beautiful fence of wrought iron, and overly decorated in statues and fountains. The party are met by a finely dressed man in the purple and blue Dacilane livery and guided through the sculpted and manicured gardens to the great house.

Entering through a hallway that would not shame a cathedral, they see wealth everywhere, Tian vases, Chelaxian rugs that cost enough to feed a family in Puddles for a year, a gilt everywhere it can conceivably be placed. It is beautiful, but far from subtle.

Finally they are lead to a vast hall where a great table is laid out for some three dozen guests, each place set with a bewildering array of cutlery and glasses. The manservant leads the party towards the head of the table, where they find themselves under the frozen gaze of a rigid sharp featured young girl with long black hair - Junia Dacilane.

Place cards in beautiful swirling silver script indicate that Alafair is to be seated to the left of the head of the table, with Rogar next to her, and Yarg besides him. Mrachni, and Slachagok are seated across the table, but separated from the head by a Captain Andstrom.

People arrayed in the latest fashions and finery are beginning to filter into the room lead by more servants and beginning to take their places - many of the placings seem to be causing a great deal of hushed consternation.

Call mine 5 gp with the extra trim

Yarg is very careful to be polite and soft spoken as he mingles.

Taking 10 on diplomacy for a total of 13

Mrachni moves quietly through the crowd, not wishing to draw attention to himself and yet not wishing to seem anti-social. He tries to follow the others' lead, but is not extremely comfortable in such company. At an opportune moment he pulls Yarg aside and speaks softly in the other's ear. "Why are they upset?" he asks. "Do you know?"

Please understand - they weep for their children... If they are sad, it's not you. Smile, look sympathetic and smile gently as you talk

Yarg looks for the Captain.

He was referring to the consternation caused by the placings, actually... but that works. :P

Rogar just finds the nearest sofa and sits down, lazily.

"Let's hope this charade is over soon... these kind of things tend to bore me to death but at least the view is worth it... usually"

So thinking Rogar starts to scan the crowd for some nice ladies to look at... trying not to seem too obvious about it.

He was referring to the consternation caused by the placings, actually... but that works. :P

Well Yarg isn't exactly Mr. GQ either :) Social nuances are lost on him too

Some ten minutes pass, with a little mingling - though most avoid the party. A few young gentlemen look Alafair's way, but after giving her long second looks none deign to approach. Then Lady Dacaline arrives in a dress that must cost more than the average Absalom home, covered in pearls and made of a beautifully woven mixture of gold blue and purple.]

Giving a few cursory greeting to the other guests she makes her way to the group, "Greetings I am Miranda Dacaline, how wonderful of you to show up in such rustic attire, how very brave of you to flout social expectations of polite dress. Pray enjoy the meal, my chefs are especially famed for their Braised Swan in Truffle sauce."

Taking her seat, giving them little chance to respond, on cue dozens of servers appear setting laden trays before the diners. Lady Dacaline makes a few sharp comments about her guests to Captain Andstrom - a red faced gentlemen going to fat, but who looks to be extremely powerfully built.

The ten courses are sumptuous, decadent, and delicious, and few men could sample each and every dish without bursting. Rogar and Yarg, find people tittering as they attempt to make proper use of the array of cutlery and little bowls filled with scented water, but the rest of the group are able to guess and emulate enough not to embarrass themselves.

Finally as the guests are served palette final cleansing dishes of shaved ice each glittering and tasting of lemon and mango Lady Dacaline leans towards the party,

"My daughter Junia was one of so many children lost. Hundreds of them pinned under the rubble in that sinkhole. The black water rising - the kids screaming," she quiets for a moment, eyes shining with moisture, a far away look in her eyes,

"None of us could get to them."

Knowledge Nobility Yarg: 1d20 ⇒ 8
Knowledge Nobility Rogar: 1d20 ⇒ 7
Knowledge Nobility Mrachni: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22 Untrained so 10.
Knowledge Nobility Alafair: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11 Untrained so 10.
Knowledge Nobility Slachagok: 1d20 ⇒ 14 Untrained so 10.

Mrachni bows his head in sympathy. "May there be justice for them in death as there was not in life," he murmurs quietly.

I feel for your loss milady... it sounds like you were there. If... , he hesitates, if you don't find it to hurtful or my inquiry too crass, if you were there, could you share your experience? I think it would help me get a feel for approaching the site with due reverence and understand the horror of that day.

"There was so much chaos, the authorities were in disarray and the rubble was bubbling and heaving like a great beast. My servants held me back... The screams... They went on for hours, a dozen parents must have died trying to reach them. It was horrific. I could only imagine my poor Junia trapped and terrified as the black waters rose to claim her..."

Mrachni winces and shakes his head at the horror.

Alafair tries to sense what might be the problem with the placards or place setting for dinner, but has little idea of the Absalom's customs or traditions.

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 4

As the Lady explains about the death of Junia, Alafair listens politely and nods at the right times, trying to look empathetic even though she thinks the ostentatious display about a child's death is a bit tiresome.

Finally, she says to the Lady: "Thank you for sharing your very personal experiences with all of us. Your information was very pertinent to our mission. Your dinner party has been a sublime success. We hoope so much to be included in your future guest lists..."

Bluff, to hide the dripping sarcasm: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Uh... wow. Does nothing about "be sensitive and respectful" mean anything to you?

Between our clothes and our resident ice queens attempt to give our host a verbal b*&#! slap I have to wonder about our faction mission success :)

"You are too kind my dear, and your dress is simply lovely - who says you cannot look perfectly acceptable and economise at the same time? I must recommend you a hair salon it's so difficult to get it quite right on ones own - well I don't have to tell you I am sure... No, forgive me, I fall into old habits, I must know my Junia's fate, I know she is dead, it has been so long... But some last desperate foolish hope still lingers. I recall Junia telling me that the lesser children would sometimes skip classes to tell ghost stories in an abandoned corridor under the school. Perhaps if Junia went to scold them... Perhaps..."

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Lol Lady Dacaline is a society b@@#& that kind of snide sparring is second nature.

The clothes aren't likely to be a big deal... they can't expect new level 1 characters to have enough gold to buy fancy clothes. Attitude in dealing with the NPCs, on the other hand...

Mrachni coughs and nods, trying to keep from grinding his teeth at the human Pathfinder's insensitivity. "We will look for her, Lady," he offers quietly.

Yarg nods and smiles gently at Mrachni's comment.

Another biting reply, something about the lady needing to spend more on clothes and hairstyle to make up for her shortcomings, wells up inside Alafair, but as the Lady Dacilane actually shows some emotion besides staged sorrow, she let's the affair drop.

"Was there part of the school, perhaps this corridor you speak of, that escaped the ruinous fate of the rest of the property? While on the site, we could look in this place if it would bring closure to your grief, Lady. Is there ought you would have us recover?"

"I am afraid I could not tell you, it is likely submerged waters still cover much of the site - the commoners call it The Drownyard, crude but evocative. It would mean a great deal to me to be able to lay Junia to rest away from that awful place, but most of all I wish to know what befell my baby... Forgive me, I really must retire I find myself overtired. Please find out what happened to my little girl..."

Producing a lace fan the Lady covers her face and hurries from the room, gossip commencing in her wake. The dinner party begins to dissolve shortly after, with a deal of social awkwardness the guests evidently having expected more.

Mrachni frowns. She is very upset... it would help grant her a measure of peace if we can bring her daughter's body back.

Addressing the rest of the Pathfinders quietly, he nods in the direction of the door. "We should rest, and meet early to begin our mission. Goodnight."