Shackled City (Pathfinder) - GM_Chris

Game Master Chris Shannon 719

Assume that Cog would sniff around more and try to pinpoint them, followed by glitterdust from Dyrant... But if they've fled that probably won't work. Toffitt lets rage drop, in any case.

"So they have run away then? Whew. We got one of them at least before driving them off."

Atol examines the fallen Archon with his club. He pokes at the body and tries to see through the veil of illusion.

Willpower 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (2) + 14 = 16

Very strange. They look so real!

Glimmil maintains one squinted eye, one open eye, and his tongue sticking from his mouth at a downward angle.

"Hmmmm... come out you- you- green-skinned bug eyed wrinkly tricksters! Come out!"

Glimmil begs the empty air for several moments before relaxing his bowstring and looking around at the others.

"I need to start asking Garl for more spells to deal with things like this. Sneaky invisible flying do-badders... what were they trying to do? They kept suggesting I do things like club Toffitt, or drink from their cup. What do we do about them?"

"Stay close to Atol, for one. Have Cog sniff about a bit, for another." Toffitt goes to search the body. 1d20 + 11 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 11 + 2 + 5 = 26

Dyrant circles for a bit, seeking one of the final archons but eventually lands in disgust.

Dyrant rages for a few moments then calms down, as his mind comes across some solutions.

"We should take this body and leave and come back tomorrow with proper magics to aid us.."

Happy holidays all.

An examination of the green hag reveals a magical ring which someone can easily identify as being +2.

Moving things along.

The party camps for the night as the sliding doors shut themselves and offer an sense of security since anything approaching would surely make them activate.

Night passes and morning comes, but it's hard to tell with the smooth wall rooms lit by the glowing panels.

There are doors to the south and north.

Atol awakens early, uncomfortable with all the light. It should be dark at night and bright during the day. This is… unnatural.

He prays fervently to St. Cuthbert for guidance and wisdom in the coming fights, and prepares himself.

In the morning he comes again to Finneas and casts Shield Other. "This is working well. You've been hit much less since we started doing this. Might be luck, and might be the extra protection it provides." Atol grins.

If anyone was still injured the night before, Atol had plenty of healing left.

"I thank you for that Atol, just be careful you don't risk your own life. We've both died once, that's one too many times I think."

Finneas stretches as looks around.

"Any idea where those archons went?"

Toffitt wouldn't say no to the ring, but will defer to Glimmil. Hoping for a matching set!

Toffitt seems to be incurring more of Chris' wrath lately, so am OK with Toffitt grabbing the ring until things change the other way around. :)

Dyrant stretches grumpily as he awakes from the night, looking across the room to the rotten bag of fetid green flesh from the previous fight, then he takes his eyes off Finn to the hag that was killed.

Good thing we brought that with us. I'm happier knowing that they could not raise it from the dead. We should burn it and spread the ashes.

Dyrant looks to Aralynn and says a few words of Celestial greeting.

"Good day, Aralynn, are we ready to fight evil again this day? We were lucky on the yesterday, let us prepare better for the vanquishing of evil this day." Dyrant's eyes flicker to the sleeping gnome and paladinic Cog.

Dyrant arises to check the Blessing of St. Cuthbert on Cog before going to a quiet place with Aralynn to pray.

* * *

Dyrant has no inclinations toward the ring.

"Well, gentlemen, shall we continue? Tis a shame that we could not recover that chalice, for it might have been interesting," Dyrant says while protecting both himself and Aralynn with spellprayers of Mage Armor.

"Let us pick up the trail where we left them, shall we? There were many doors to explore."

"No, Finneas, I don't know which way they went. It is possible that they have set an array of traps against us in the night. Let us be vigilant."

Dyrant smiles at Glim.

"Come brave Glimwaddle! We have evil to smite!"

Dyrant takes out his cudgel and takes a few practice swings, limbering his arms for the beatdowns to come.

"Atol, you ready to cudgel the enemies of St. Cuthbert? We shall rain holy wood upon them!"

I think we'll head back to the ettin room and search from there.

"Come, Doctor. We'll need your pointy stick and clever strikes soon."

Since no one picked a door.

The party moves towards the southern door and it swooshes up as the others doors. This time however, there is a scratching sound like flint on stone. Sparks can be seen along the wall and then fire explodes from the room and covers the party (39 damage or DC 18 REF for half).

Beyond the door, there is a collapsed tunnel. A little exploration reveals that natural gases are seeping into the room and someone had rigged the door to spark when opened.

The door to the north remains unopened.

Level 8
Perception
Aralynn 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Atol1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Dyrant 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
Finneas 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19
Glimmil1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Toffitt 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (5) + 13 = 18

10d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 4, 6, 2, 5, 3, 3, 3, 4) = 39

"I'll be happy to serve them up nice and compliant for your cudgeling, Dyrant."

As the party proceeds into the area wence came the hags, Toffitt consumes his mutagen and alchemical allocation (prior to swishing with his minty fresh potion of heroism).

Reflex 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (14) + 15 = 29

"Ouch! Atol? Dyrant? You okay?"

"...as I was saying we should be extra vigilant for tra..::BOOM::"

Dyrant stops speaking as he is engulfed in flames.

1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 6 + 2 = 16 Reflex

Dyrant sighs deep as he pats out the fires on his body.

*sigh*

"I am fine, Doctor. I'll live, but barely."

Dyrant touches himself. 2d8 + 8 ⇒ (5, 7) + 8 = 20 healing

Reflex DC18 for half: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19

"Does anyone have any extr-- AAAAghhh!!! HOT, HOT, HOT!!!"

Glimmil dances around as if someone dropped a dozen eels into his armor while his armor glows ember for a few moments.

"Erm, that wasn't exactly pleasant. But hey! Let me fix everyone up! Garl's shiny brilliance today for all!"

Channel (using 2X lay-on-hands): 3d6 ⇒ (6, 3, 5) = 14

"Not bad, I'm sure Atol can patch the rest of you folks up. We should probably keep an eye for traps on these doors, regardless of how much fun it is to see how brave we all are by opening them without checking!"

"Thanks, Ser Glimmil. You've a healer's hands and a warrior's arm, to be sure."

Reflex 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13 vs DC 18 or take 39 fire damage

"It burns!"

Atol, after he puts himself out a bit, channels energy for 4d6 ⇒ (3, 3, 4, 4) = 14 worth of healing.

Sigh.

He then touches himself with the healing touch of St. Cuthbert, and a shot off the wand.
Cure Light Wounds for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Cure Light Wounds for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

"Thanks, Glimmil, for the healing. It's what I needed." Atol grins.

Sorry guys, work got a little crazy yesterday.

REF DC 18: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

39 damage, 20 to me and 19 to Atol. HP 49/69. Channel for 14 from Glimmil, 63/69. Channel for 14 from Atol, 69/69.

Finneas stands dumbstruck, his thoughts elsewhere as the flame washes over his companions. Unfortunately he forgets to actually get out of the way and ends up breathing in most of it.

"Atol, are you ok?"

Seeing the helpful Cuthbertine fall to the ground Finneas moves to pick him up before Glimmil's healing restores the group.

I'm assuming some more healing, but moving forward.

The party goes to the next door and looks carefully, but it seems safe. It swooshes up and reveals a throne room constructed of the same smooth walls lit by glowing plates. The north portion of this square room contains a seven-foot-high platform connected to an L-shaped ramp. A strip of bas-reliefs depicting gaunt, magic-wielding, six-armed creatures decorates the base of the platform. Each creature holds a disk in its lowest set of arms, which is represented like a shining sun. The rays emanating from the disks, engraved in the stone as straight lines, form the background of the composition. A white marble throne with triple armrests sits on the platform itself.

There are doors to the north and west.

New Map

As he wakes up in Finneas' arms, Atol begins to wonder at this wonderful spell he casts daily.

Once he's oriented, he heals himself further with his wand.
Cure Light Wounds for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Cure Light Wounds for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Cure Light Wounds for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Toffitt takes out the wand of see invisibility and activates it. He looks around and upward in search of the hags. Perception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 16

"Cog? Do you smell anything? Do you boy? Point them out!"

Dyrant urges the pup to use his nose to pinpoint any invisibles nearby.

If the room is deemed safe, Dyrant will enter the room with caution.

Dyrant will cast Detect Magic and look around.

Nothing is seen, heard, sensed, nor smelled aside from the usual magic from the doors and glowing panels.

Dyrant draws the metal plate from his Haversack and compares it against the throne and panels.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18 Int Check: Is the plate a key? Does it fit someplace?

EDIT: See this link, peeps.

The craftsmanship is the same, but it does not appear to match any of the surroundings or fit in anywhere.

"Um...what is that? Is it a throne? It doesn't look very comfortable."

I wouldn't sit on it.

Finneas glances around the room, sword out and ready for the return of the archons.

How many panels are there? How many 6-armed figures?

A string of ciphers under the depiction of the Starry Mirror represent numbers. In order, they are 3, 4, 5, 1, 2, 3.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17 Intelligence Check: Correlation between plate and the panels we see above?

Dyrant examines the panels, but concludes that they are not in the place depicted. The throne is different and there is nothing to correspond to the cipher.

Toffitt creeps carefully into the room and toward the ramp. Assuming he can get that far, he goes to listen at the northerly door.

Perception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27

"Kind of... anti-climatic, eh guys? I expected a six armed demon monster to be waiting here for us to vanquish."

Glimmil scrunches up his face and tries to remember some of the stories he's read of similar heroic do-goodery.

"You know, sometimes in places like this, they have two rooms. One's a false throne room, and another is the actual real one. The actual real one being behind a secret door or something."

"What do you think? North or west?"

Glimmil and Cog ride up the steps and make their way for the northern door, accompanying Toffitt.

Seeing that the room seems secure, Atol strides up to the throne. He waves his club in the chair to see if there's an invisible six armed king sitting there.

Assuming not, he examines the throne carefully. Are there carvings or depictions of the people that were once here in the white marble of the throne?

"Six arms. They could wield a lot of clubs."

"Two thrones? We had a two seat throne back at the orphanage for the boys. It wasn't too bad, unless you had to sit next to somebody you didn't like. In the winter is was warmer than the single seat thrones most places have."

By triple armests, do you mean two seats or three? Three seats = four armrests, in the movie theater at least.

Dyrant looks at the gnome and Doctor ignoring what is assuredly a throne of power or interest in favor of the door.

"Uh...but the plate? It matches these markings. Remember what it said? Don't you think it's important?"

Dyrant looks confused by the plate, but tries to make more sense out of it.

To see if he is missing anything obvious (or not obvious) before following Dr. & Glim through the north door.

1d20 + 17 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 17 + 2 = 34 Know (Arcana)
1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 9 + 2 = 26 Know (Dungeoneering)
1d20 + 11 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 11 + 2 = 30 Know (History)
1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 12 + 2 = 26 Know (Local)
1d20 + 15 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 15 + 2 = 27 Know (Nature)
1d20 + 18 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 18 + 2 = 35 Know (Planes)
1d20 + 15 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 15 + 2 = 36 Know (Religion)

Unable to deduce any further clues from the current room, the party continues to the north. A couple swooshes later and the party now finds themself in a room with a throne similar to that depicted on the plate.

The ceiling in this room forms a four-sided dome. The apex of the dome is thirty feet off the ground. An odd, ten-foot-wide pentagonal mirror hangs on the west wall, from where it casts a drak reflection of the room. This reflection is distorted in an unsettling way, and dotted with shimmering, star-like pinpoints of white light. A colorful hexagonal diagram is engrave in the floor surrounding the mirror. A single chair of white stone with triple armrests six-armed creature sits in the middle of the room, facing the mirror. Alex Tercival sits in the chair staring into the mirror.

Alex Tercival stirs at the swoosh of the door and looks in your direction.

Book Map scan

Excel Map (1 row bigger to accomodate throne in center)

Picture

Atol grins at the sight of the long lost Paladin and moves forward to stand at the doorway.

"Alex, I am Atol Lem, humble servant of St. Cuthbert and his church. Jenya Urikas, High Priestess of the church of Cauldron wishes to speak with you, as do we." Atol gets distracted a moment, "What a grand room! I would hear of it's secrets from you. And this place, so fascinating!"

Atol stops and thinks, then says, "Will you please accompany us to see her?"

Toffitt pays careful attention to the paladin's response. Does this seem like him? The hags surely have other illusory magics.

Sense motive 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (20) + 13 = 33

Alex stands up slowly.

"Jenya? Yes. Jenya should know of the distaster that looms over Cauldron."

Alex turns back to the mirror and stares at it some more.

"There are answers in there. I know it. But they don't make any sense to me. My knowledge of such things is rather limited I'm afraid."

He backs slowly away from the mirror towards the north east corner of the room.

"Friends, something's not right here. Dyrant, Glim, I suggest scanning for magic and evil. Could it be the hags've possessed him?"

"Ser Tercival, we hope to learn more of your invocation fo the Law of Peerage. We had asked your fellows in the Chisel thought you might have some insights to share with us." Toffitt steels himself a bit for battle, suspecting that the paladin is not in his right mind.

"Insights? Yes. The mirror offers many insights."

Alex moves back towards the mirror.

"It shows me things, but I don't understand them. Cauldron burning. The sky ripping apart. Demons and devils. Maybe you could help me understand."

Finneas scratches his head in confusion at the paladin.

"How did you get past the giants and false archons?"

Wouldn't a paladin...but Glimmil doesn't...well sure but he's a bit spoony...

"False archons? What false archons? Did you do something to them?"

Alex turns to the group.

Ah. Of course. "Worry not, ser. Only to the false archons. Not to the real ones, like Aralyn here." Toffitt puts a hand on his extract of shield. "We did encounter a group of hags who claimed to be archons, who also had the ability to enchant others. Did you perhaps encounter them?" He elbows Atol in the ribs.

Diplomacy to make nice with the enchanted yahoo 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (10) + 14 = 24

"Hags?

Alex stares into the mirror. "I have not seen any in the mirror. Look for yourself. Demons. Devils. No hags."

"Ow. Er, yes, the false archons. Their illusions were quite powerful, but they were merely hags under all that magic. We killed one, but the other two fled - apparently not your way or I'm sure you'd have handled them."

Sense Motive 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23 on the fair paladin to pick up with the good doctor is laying down.

Atol ponders, "How did you get past them without a fight? Do you mind if I cast a quick spell? It's nothing really, just a Protection from Evil." Atol smiles reassuringly, "It'll help protect you as we leave in case they come back."

Atol attempts to cast a Protection from Evil on Alex. If he refuses or dodges out of the way, he'll land it on Finneas. ...just in case (and to avoid wasting the spell).

Dyrant watches for the result of Atol's spell, still mesmerized by the metal plate.

Alex accepts the spell, but Atol needs to make a will save.

"Fight? There is nothing to fight here. Just the ruins of some ancient civilization protected by the archons. They picked me to look on the mirror. They said I could save Cauldron."