Pathfinder Greyhawk Legacy

Game Master Dick G

I'm using Pathfinder rules to run a Greyhawk campaign.


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I'll allow a Knowledge Local Roll. Nomin is not from the immediate area, nobody is. I'll say DC 15 to estimate the distance to Hommlet. You all received directions, have looked at maps and I'm sure there are mile markers and or shrines along the road, that may offer clues to the passer byes who stop to look at them.


Nomin's Knowledge Local DC 15: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18


Timur's Geography: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17


Male

Between the two of them, Nomin and Timur are able to determine, that Hommlet is less than ten miles away. It will take perhaps 2 - 2 1/2 hours walking or hustling. Dragging an unconscious woman, would severely encumber either of them if not both of them, causing the travel time to slow.


Nomin's intent is to try and bring the elven priestess to the temple of Cuthbert that she requested he bring her medallion to. Nomin will assume that the temple is in the nearby town. He looks to see if there are some spear shafts and a blanket to fashion a litter, or pram?

"Yes, food for the wolves. You are right my friend, we will all be soon lest we get to some sort of shelter. Especially this one." Nomin motions to the female elf.


Random encounter roll: 1d100 ⇒ 71

encounter table:

d% Result
01—50 No encounter
51—60 Hazard
61—100 Monster


Do I hear the monster approaching?


If not, I am going to check the elfs stuff to see if she might have a potion, perhaps a healing one, not that I have the means to determine what is what but I will give it a try.


Nomin Barthep wrote:
Do I hear the monster approaching?

Distance to the source, object, or creature +1/10 feet. Also Terrible conditions +5 Nomin's Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10


Nomin here's many many sounds in the forest, but he is unable to identify a specific threat. He searches the personal belongings of
Vanyalanthiriel. She like her fellows has no sacks bags or pouches. She does have a single sheaf of leather rolled into a tube. Intricate knot work patterns have been stamped and burned into the hide. Nomin unrolls it and a scroll is revealed. Nomin's use magic device, Cha+1: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
The DC for "use magic device" on a scroll is as follows - Decipher a Written Spell: This usage works just like deciphering a written spell with the Spellcraft skill (DC 20 + spell level), except that the DC is 5 points higher. Deciphering a written spell requires 1 minute of concentration.
Nomin furrows his brows, unable to translate the gibberish on the parchment he holds.


Timur's perception check is also an impossible roll.


Male

XP awards, Nomin: 0+45=45 x 2 = 90, Timur: 0+45=45 x 2 = 90, Vanyalanthiriel: 0+45=45 x 2 = 90


Bill wrote:
Nomin continues his efforts to build a litter, or pram.

Both Nomin and Timur are able to find enough lengths of shattered spear shafts and cloth to fashion a half litter. Either of them could drag it from an end. Two of them could do so from each side of the same end. As long as you stay on the dirt road, going will be slow, but smooth. You imagine the snow in the coming months or mud from a spring thaw would make this all the worse. It hasn't rained in a week or so, but it is seasonable.

As you finish the partial stretcher and move the elf woman to it, you hear a raspy guttural sound. It's not just one sound. Two or more creatures are conversing. Hissing and clicking, followed by a long vibratory groan. Then rhythmic short high pitched squeaks erupt back and forth.
The sounds are coming from the road ahead, toward Hommlet. As they scan the darkness in front of them, movement can be seen in the shadows. Several small figures seem to be rummaging through the corpses furthest from them. Occasionally the moonlight reflects off a pair of eyes and the orbs glow momentarily the way some animals and non humans do.


Nomin & Timur's Perception (DC 15): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 81d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11


Neither of the two humans can tell how many of these creatures are out there. The creatures pause in a skittish way if they hear sound from Timur and Nomin. It's as if they are not concerned with them as long as they keep a distance. The sounds are definitely different from the goblins. The goblins sounded more canine or even porcine than this. These things ahead remind you of the sounds some lizards make in warmer weather. You may have had the pleasure of listening to a bard or ranger tell a tale, implementing sound effects and mimicry. This is definitely an intelligent reptilian or avian language.


Vanyalanthiriel rolls to regain consciousness DC 10 Constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Vanyalanthiriel remains unconscious.


Bill wrote:
Is there a way around, the creature ahead of us. Nomin would prefer not to drag the elf through a combat area where she could be opportunistically stabbed.


Tough question to answer. You can go around the sounds but that would make you have to enter the woods. Avoiding the sounds could be worse. I am not making any guarantees, that it's safer.


Bill wrote:

Nomin looks at Timur and says " Well my friend will you help me drag this she-elf to the town a few miles down this road? I think if we drag this litter we have build, both of us on one side we can protect her and make the best time possible. If we stay out here I don't think she will make it through the night." Nomin grins,"You might, but I'm not so sure about my own chances. " Nomin chuckles. "I think there is a bit more hard work just ahead of us."

Nomin draws his rapier, holding it in his left hand and bends down to lift the right side of the pram with his right hand. Hoping that Timur will follow suit.


Vanyalanthiriel rolls to regain consciousness DC 10
Constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
She succeeds


I was looking back over my posts. In the intro I mentioned you were in Hommlet. It was an oversight from copying and pasting. Because I was in error, I'm multiplying XP for the first combat by two. XP awards, Nomin: 90*2=180, Timur: 90*2=180, Vanyalanthiriel: 90*2=180. Total XP for everyone is 180 each.
Timur grunts and shrugs, stooping to lift a side of the sledge. He brandishes his falchion, sneering at the creatures ahead. The sounds stop momentarily as if in response to his threat, then they start up again.


The elf woman seems dizzy, she gazes around at her surroundings. She looks from Nomin to Timur. She grimaces, perhaps in pain or maybe displeasure at being so helpless.


The journey takes close to five hours. It's around four in the morning when you reach the first farmhouse. You pass several other farms and merchants as you search for a temple. The sun is beginning to crest to the east giving you a glimpse of the rest of the village. It takes ten minutes to get to a place where there are people out and about. It appears to be a large inn. There is a stable and a two story building, surrounded by a wooden split rail fence. The square wooden sign shows a buxom and smiling girl holding a flagon of beer.
This must be the Inn of the Welcome Wench, a place renowned for its good food and excellent drink!

You can't quite see a building that stands out as a temple or church from here. There are several larger structures and hillside estates visible. They could be cathedrals or lordly manor houses. You notice two young men, boys actually outside the inn. They warily eye you as you come near. One beckons you to the stables, the other runs inside, you can hear his cries as he announces your arrival.

Within seconds, another pair of men, this time older, appear at the door of the inn. They peer suspiciously at you. They hold lanterns and torches. They look over your party scrutinizing you and the elf on the stretcher. They beckon you to the stables and the younger boy returns from inside the in with a handful of blankets and some bottles and jars.


Nomin wrote:
"Ah, thank you, thank you for your help!" Nomin takes what I assume is a jar of water and takes a drink. Then he takes a real drink if available. "This elfess needs a priest immediately. She is weak and nearly beyond help. Before she fell unconscious she asked for a cleric of St. Cuthbert, is there one such person to be found?"


I'll give you a free perception success. The jars are healing salves, ointments etc. Very very pricey stuff. Nobody gets this kind of stuff, unless it's paid for up front, or they are among very good friends. Timur would note the fine jars and vessels and the aromatic smells of natural oils and herbs. Nomin would also note the jars and some of the runes and sigils as being healing potions. It's top dollar, easily fifty to a hundred GP in healing alone. A sovereign ruler could stay at the best inn in the world for over a day for that much gold. This elf woman must be something else or at least a good friend of this inn keeper. It stands to reason however, that beverages are the least that can be offered to the persons who brought this woman to safety.


The elder of the two men looks to Nomin and then to Timur, then back to Nomin. "My good Sirs, please feel free to take beds here for the night. In fact you may stay through the day and bed again on the morrow. I have plenty of spare beds in the general dormitory room. The lady you rescued is a priestess of the Seldarine. She is a guest of the Church of Cuthbert."
He does not mention any reward beyond his offer of hospitality. It's possibly a breach of etiquette for him to assume or judge the faith of strangers. He claps his hands and a young serving girl comes out side with a flagon of fairly good ale for each of you.


Bill wrote:

Nomin raises the jar toward his face, nearly mistaking it for a jar of water, then tries to look at sigils inscribed upon it as if that were his original intent feel free to make a bluff check here grins in an embarrassed manner at the two men who gave him the jars and applies the ointment to the elfs wounds.

Nomin gladly accepts the flagon of ale and drains it. He keeps the corner of his eye on the elf as he does so, wanting to witness the curative power of the salve.


The cool morning air bites through the traveling clothes worn by the adventurers. The innkeeper crouches down beside Vanyalanthiriel and applies a small amount of salve to her forehead. Her eye's haze over momentarily. You can see the reflection of the crescent moons in each of her eyes. The glow seems almost brighter than it should for a moment, then subsides.


Vanyalanthiriel's breathing intensifies for a few seconds, then returns to normal. She remains still yet conscious during the procedure. Her initial impatience seems to have dissipated. She utters something under her breath. A few of the words seem familiar, famous elves or some such.
"Sehanine Moonbow, చంద్రుడు, Corellon యొక్క అంకితం తోడుగా దేవత, నేను కవల చంద్రులు కాంతి కింద నాకు మొత్తం చేయడానికి నిన్ను బతిమాలుకొనుచున్నాను."

Elvish /Olven:
"Sehanine Moonbow, Goddess of the moon, devoted companion of Corellon, I beseech thee to make me whole under the light of the twin moons. "

As she whispers, the places the innkeeper smeared the pasty medicine also seem to radiate or reflect the moonlight. Her forehead cheeks and shoulders glow softly then return to normal. Many of her cuts and bruises fade or shrink down to nothing, like a dozen small ponds drying up. There are no scars or blemishes left behind.

It's all rather fast and subtle, if it not been watched closely, most of the effects might have been missed. Anyone who had seen her wounds or tried to dress them would appreciate the results of the healing.

She still seems frail and light headed, but she slowly sits up and defiantly stands.


The innkeeper holds his arms out, as if to catch her, should she fall. He seems as resolute to let her be as she is to regain her independence. As she adjusts to standing on her own and catching her breath, you can see torchlight in the distance. Coming down the north road at a good pace, perhaps on horseback, are the lights of several torches or lanterns. The sun is slightly higher, an thin amber glow in a cloudy blue swath of sky. The grey predawn shadows still linger.


Three horses and a mule are trotting toward the inn. You can see heraldic ribbons and bands hanging from the saddles. The images depict runes and symbols of St. Cuthbert, Pelor and Rao. It's not unusual for a temple to house worshipers and faithful of several deities, especially this far away from a major city. An armored rider dressed in yellow cloth, trimmed with gold and emblazoned with the holy symbols of Pelor, leads the group. Two robed men follow the sanctified soldier. One wears white robes, embellished with stars and a medallion depicting the ruby studded cross of St. Cuthbert. An oddly mismatched, yet recognizable crumpled hat sits atop his head. The other wears a pale grey and white toga, with a conical white felt hat. A small blue square badge with a white symmetrical heart sits next to a small crook shaped pin on his upper left chest area. They mark him as a priest of Rao.


The pony is unmanned, perhaps intended for the she elf. In the distance a young boy can be seen running as if to catch up to the riders. The innkeeper and his staff also seem to notice him. They seem pleased to see him. Perhaps he ran to get help as soon as you were spotted near the inn. This says a great deal about the town, it's network and the inhabitants.


Bill wrote:
Nomin looks at the approaching retune and then looks back at the elf and then his empty tankard. He says "I figured you'd like it better if I brought you back with your moon pendant rather than it alone. Nomin Barthep at your service m'lady. " Nomin nods his head towards her in respect.


Vanyalanthiriel carefully watches Nomin's mouth and face as he speaks. It's as if she's trying to read his lips. Or perhaps she's just trying to translate it. Her common is very limited. She squints her eyes and nods, though her expression seems slightly confused. She resumes her cool nonchalant manner. She looks to the priests as if for some assistance.


The cleric of Cuthbert, wrinkles his nose a little and interjects, " M'lady , ఇక్కడ పెద్దమనిషి, " he gestures to Nomin, " మీరు సరే సంతోషంగా ఉంది . అతను వెనుక వదిలి గురించి విభేధాలు ఉండేవి. నేను మేము తన అంచనా సరిపోవు , చెప్పే ఉండాలి. మనం మీ పార్టీ మిగిలిన ఉంటాయి చర్చ్ కి వెళ్ళి మీ బస చూడండి మరియు చెప్పటానికి . నేను వారు అడవుల్లో ఇప్పటికీ పరిగణించలేము. " He somberly looks to the ground as what he says sinks in.

Olven:
"M'lady, the gentleman here, is happy you are okay. He had conflicts about leaving you behind. I must say, we agree with his assessment. What say we go to the church and see to your lodging and then tend to the rest of your party. I assume they are still in the woods."


The golden clad paladin shifts his weight in his saddle, as his steed exhales. The clerics and the inn staff exchange pleasantries and slowly both groups begin to separate. The innkeeper offers, before the horses ride off, " We could organize a search party and recover her friends…. " He looks hopeful. The clerics stop for a moment and confer. They all soon agree and the priest of Rao adds, " We will add to the party, more members will make that task easier. We will meet here and leave in an hour. "


((OOC So I am correct that Nomin and Timur have not slept and more or less traveled all night to get her here? If so what effect is that having on us? Nomin would happily volunteer to help retrieve her fallen elven comrades, unless he is physically unable to due to fatigue.))

Nomin looks at the priest and the elf, sees the exchange, a curious and thoughtful expectant look grows upon his face.

((Nomin does not speak elven))


Normally I would totally go for the whole fatigue issue. I'm going to let it slide. I started this game in a weird place. I'll say you'll probably need a rest after this.


The priests don't seem rude or elitist, but they sort of don't really seem interested in translating conversations. They are not overly congenial. I think perhaps, they might seem friendly, yet protective. You've done a good deed and have earned some positive attention.

You might step back and realize the networking system the town has. The Innkeeper has a staff that was able to put up a makeshift field hospital and summon a paladin and 3 clerics in under a half hour.

It's kind of like the town was expecting a half dozen elves to arrive and assist them. You brought the survivor to them. Though you did a good deed, you are the bearers of bad news. If you'd like to try and get some kind of reward or make a social skill roll, I would not object.


Timur would be wary of this exchange. The Weigwir are not fond of indirectness and he perceives this as a slight. They are taking little note of him. He glares at them under his darkened brows.


Timur wrote:
Timur looks up from a haunch of mutton, wipes the grease off of his mouth with his buckskskin sleeve, frowns,nod in the direction of the she elf and Nomin and says "I am Timur, Son of Bleda of the Weigwir, called Wolf Nomads in the Common Tongue".

I'm going to take the average of your two knowledge skills, Knowledge (geography)(Int +2), *Knowledge (nature)(Int +2, , CS +3)+5, giving Timur a +3. To open a dialogue or navigate through the conversation.

Timur's social enterprise roll : 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7


Timur is free to feel slighted. The Priests seem not to notice him, more concerned with the still weakened Elf woman. The Paladin however turns a helmed head to both Timur and Nomin. The holy warrior slowly reaches it's steel headgear and removes it. Her armor concealed her form rather well. As she removes the helm, it becomes apparent the knight is a rather comely woman. She has a very serious and stern visage. It softens a very small bit as her gaze switches from Nomin to Timur.

"Well met, Sirs. Truly Istus smiles upon us at our meeting. Our friend would not be here to share our breath, were it not for your valiant and selfless efforts. I look forward to hearing of your future acts of valor." She offers a militant salute and holds it long enough to make her companions follow suit. Even the she elf, seems compelled to perform the gesture.

The paladin also seems to be appraising the pair of adventurers. Perhaps even sizing them up. The innkeeper seems to be watching her as she watches the two men. He is almost amused, like he's watching beasts sniff each other. He steps up keeping the conversation going, " So, friends, come inside and tell me how you came to be traveling companions...."
He gives his farewells to the clerics and holds the door to his inn open, beckoning the pair inside.


Taking stock of the situation, Nomin says. "I would be more than happy to guide all of you back to the site where the unfortunate battle took place. My only wish is that Timur and I had come upon the fight sooner and could have been of greater aid. I will need Timur's help if he is willing to find our way back, if you will have us."


Nomin to the Innkeeper, "Ah, yes, it seems adversity is the best way to make friends or enemies. In this case I hope it is the former. I can tell you truly, if it were not for Timur's timely assistance I would be counted among the casualties."


((OOC are we gearing up to ride out and recover the fallen elves? Or are others taking on that task?))


Nomin wrote:
are we gearing up to ride out and recover the fallen elves? Or are others taking on that task?

Both or neither, it's your choice. Right now, the group from Cuthbert's Church-grounds are returning there. The Ostler of the Inn is getting ready to feed his guests breakfast. In one hour, the clerics will be returning to this location to meet up with anyone the innkeeper can round up.


Nomin will take the Innkeeper on his offer for breakfast and then set out when the clerics arrive.


The innkeeper enters the kitchen door of his establishment. He nods pleasantly at Nomin but doesn't add anything to the conversation.
He joins an older matronly woman and two younger girls as they prepare poached salmon, mutton and several venison dishes. The two grooms from the stables, grab a quick breakfast of bread and some watery stew from the night before. They seem quite content to have anything to eat. The kitchen smells tremendous compared to travelers rations and the meager rewards of hunting during this season.
The two pot boys also enjoy a quick breakfast. They talk to the stable boys and for a brief moment, they are just children. Soon, however, they finish eating and begin to go about their daily business.


The Innkeeper gestures toward the common room and points out a table for Nomin and Timur. In this room many people perhaps, close to two dozen, are eagerly awaiting breakfast. You see locals dressed in their day to day work cloths and also travelers. Seasonably practical , cloaks and hoods mark the road folk. Some wear various heavy animal pelts like Timur, though they are outnumbered. Few are openly armed, though the well trained eye can see knives, daggers, clubs and even wands tucked here and there. There are two dwarves, one halfling and an odd looking …thing. You've heard about the spawn of humans with infernal creatures. A man with bloodshot eyes and twisted horns protruding from his brow sits in a corner. His skin shimmers lightly as the cook and hearth fires about the room reflect on it. It's as if he has both scales and skin. Few people look at him. Though he wears a hood to cover his visage, his features are unmistakable. He stands out like a sore thumb. You have heard tales of them giving into dark desires and the unfathomable urges of their lineage. He notices Timur and Nomin and appraises them as they enter the room. He tries to be inconspicuous, but he's hard not to notice.


50 % chance for....: 5d100 ⇒ (31, 97, 45, 98, 49) = 320

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