Shackled City (Pathfinder) - GM_Chris

Game Master Chris Shannon 719

Round 4

"You got it!"

Glimmil steps forward towards the orc that's been slashing at Dyrant and gives him an accusing glare.

"You picked the wrong heroes to ambush today, buddy!"

Cog continues his relentless snapping while Glimmil joins in the fun.

"GARL! GLITTER! GOLD!"

Glim to I,19 with a move action, readying his shield as he does so. He'll then use his glove of storing to produce Claw-Whomper as a free action. This is the 2nd of his 3 sickened rounds.

Swift action to turn on smite against the big orc who keeps geeting healed.

Cog bite #1: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (12) + 14 = 26 for 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 and trip 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Cog bite #2: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32 for 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8 and trip 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

Glimmil attack #1 (smite): 1d20 + 18 - 2 - 0 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 18 - 2 - 0 + 4 = 31 for 1d6 + 7 + 8 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 7 + 8 + 11 = 29
Holy damage (if evil): 2d6 ⇒ (4, 5) = 9

Glimmil and Cog kill the half-orc.

Round 4, Init 17, part 1

Aralynn will take the stone near the male caster and will ready to move with the caster should he move.

Dyrant moves to F17.

Can Dyrant hear there? Does either the stone being moved or his own movement get him out of the silence field?

Yes. Standard 20' radius.

Round 4, Initiative 22, Location: F23

Fearing for poor Dyrant's life, and still being in silence, Atol again Channels Energy. He excludes the opposition, but not Aroon or any of the other bar patrons of course.
Channel Energy healing: 8d6 ⇒ (6, 5, 1, 1, 6, 6, 3, 1) = 29

He'll spend a move action trying to wake up Dr. Toffitt. (though I think with a move action he does more or less nothing useful.)

Round 4, Init 17, part 2

Dyrant tests his voice out.

1d20 + 17 ⇒ (1) + 17 = 18 Know (Religion) Female/Vecna

"What exactly are you? And you?"

Dyrant turns his attention from the female caster to the male, with Aralynn (and the stone) circling overhead.

"Let's see what you're made of."

Dyrant casts Snowball, calling up an angry amount of cold feelings for the male caster.

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30 Touch attack
5d6 ⇒ (4, 6, 1, 5, 6) = 22 cold damage and DC18 Fort Save vs. Staggered (one action)

Potetial Crit:
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16 Touch attack
5d6 ⇒ (3, 3, 4, 5, 6) = 21 extra cold damage

Round 4

Finneas steps to the woman and attempts to cut her down.

5' to H21.

Greatsword Power Attack Raging: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 242d6 + 19 ⇒ (2, 6) + 19 = 27
Evil: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 5) = 9
Greatsword Power Attack Raging: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 282d6 + 19 ⇒ (4, 3) + 19 = 26
Evil: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 3) = 7
Crit Confirm: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 242d6 + 19 ⇒ (5, 4) + 19 = 28

Glimmil and Cog take down the half-orc Finneas cuts down the female caster. Dyrant tries to take down the last one, but can't pull it off even with the crit.

Fort Save: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

The last man standing casts invisibility and can be heard dashing out the front of the inn. He's at least 20' outside the inn as he was hasted.

Round 5. No new map.

How is the man casting invisibility when Aralynn brought the silence stone over to him (with a ready to follow the man if he moves)?

He also has a metamagic rod of silent spell. I forgot to note it in the text, but the mod actually thought this one through.

You know that image of two overlapping nebulas in a trinary star system you saw that one time in Star Trek: The Next Generation? That's what Toffitt's corpuscles are looking like right now. Not very comfortable, but immortality has its price.

Round 5, Init 17

Dyrant snarls as he missed the fact that the male caster had a rod in his hand the whole time.

I should have seen that.

Dyrant casts See Invisibility and runs after the man (30').

Aralynn drops the stone and flies to Dyrant and offers healing.

1d8 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9 healing

Round 5, Initiative 22, Location: F23->60' in chase

Seeing one of them go invisible, and start running, Atol quickly casts Blessing of Fervor (should include everyone but Dyrant unfortunately. Obviously if I can include Dyrant Atol does so. He then chases after the man using the speed increase (30') to move 60'.

It's a two-minutes game of hide-and-seek with Dyrant pointing out the location of the man, casting glitterdust or some similar spell, but Finneas and Glimmil eventually catch up to the male.

The half-orc is dead. The woman is bleeding out. Will the man survive? If the party doesn't take steps for non-lethal, then 1d2 ⇒ 1 he is killed by a blow. We're out of combat.

Dyrant joins the beatdown of the male caster with his AngelRelic, happy pulping the man to an unrecognizable form.

The Cudgel delivers justice to assassins.

With a final spray of blood from a well placed knock to the upper lip, Dyrant finally stops to rest.

"Beatdowns are hard work, are they not, Finn?" Dyrant says to the half-orc as if finally noticing him for the first time in his new armor.

Dyrant looks at Finn up and down, a confused look on his face, his lips slow to find the words to the question he wishes to ask.

"Uhm...the red in the center...and the black along the extremities. Did...did...you choose those colors? Uh..."

Dyrant tries to resist describing what he sees.

"Uhm...Finn...those colors make you seem, uh...seem..." Dyrant looks for the right word.

"...highlighted. Yes, that's it. You're interestingly colored."

* * *
Dyrant will help drag the male caster's body back to the Inn, putting it in line with the female caster and the jerk-orc (who really did a number on Dyrant's back with his greatsword).

"Atol, did Aroon survive? Anyone else hurt? Any luck with Doctor Toffitt?"

Dyrant will cast Detect Magic and begin to search the bodies.

Hands off Toffitt's body, preacher man!

Atol would have cast Invisibility Purge as well during the chase so I'll mark it off. As soon as the assailant is down, Atol rushes back to Dr. Toffitt. Having no scrolls there's nothing he can do magically, but he will try and use more mundane efforts to wake him as he moves his hands all over his body looking for injury.

Healing Check: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

After he helps the good Dr. as much as he can, he checks on other patrons in the bar. He heals anyone who seems to need it, and gathers up anyone who didn't survive the battle...

What shade does a man's skin take on when his cells are being preserved, one by one, and yet still alive? With the alchemical properties of angels, liches and wolfsbane coursing through his veins. Silvery gray? Tawny brown? Yellowish? Whatever it is: yes, that. Toffitt's skin looks like that. In patches spreading from the core of his body outward.

The human sorcerer has many magical items. His spellbook and familiar (if he had one) are absent though.

The half-orc was also a treasure trove:

And the woman does not disappoint as Dyrant gropes her:

Atol checks on Aroon, but finds him to be very dead. Atol tries to figure out what is up with Toffitt, but is left perplexed. With combat over, he can at least tell that he's breathing, if barely. He does not awaken even with a neutralize poison lay on hands from Glimmil.

The city watch arrives shortly, but mostly hangs back as the party investigates. None of them has any interest in gettign in the party's way. The sergeant sends one officer to inform Skellerang of what has occurred.

One of the rookies goes to the kitchen and scoops out a bowl of what will be Aroon's last batch of gristle stew. He eats it as he waits for the party to leave.

With Heroism, Dyrant autochecks everything under 24.

Dyrant casts Detect Magic and begins to identify the items, handing them to Atol as he does for AtolHauling.

1d20 + 21 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 21 + 2 = 25 Spellcraft Rod #1
1d20 + 21 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 21 + 2 = 42 Spellcraft Rod #2
1d20 + 21 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 21 + 2 = 35 Spellcraft Belt
1d20 + 21 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 21 + 2 = 27 Spellcraft Ring

Is it possible to know what spell is in the Ring of Counterspells?

Glimmil sets one of the larger mugs on the ground for Cog, who appears parched after the chase through Cauldron's streets.

"So, who are they? And why would they ambush the most powerful people in all of Cauldron."

Glimmil crosses his arms.

"That'd be us. The heroes."

Glimmil will approach the city watch and inquire if they can take the bodies of the defeated to Cauldron's cells and question their attackers there, feeling like that would be the proper thing to do.

Atol is deeply troubled by Aroon's passing.

"He died defending us." he turns to Dyrant, "He died fighting on our side, with our group."

He looks at the hoard of items laid out before him. "Maybe there's enough here to raise him from the dead. I can cast the spell tomorrow - we just need a diamond worth 5,000 gp and 2,000gp in diamond dust."

He looks to the group, "We can afford this, and it's the right thing to do I think. Aroon has done well by us for a long time and proved himself in the end." he thinks a moment, "I shall also prepare a Heal spell for Dr. Toffitt. That should purge him of whatever they might have done to him. Until then we must keep a vigil over him in case there are others ready to attack us."

He picks up Dr. Toffitt and begins to carry him to the house where he will lay him in his bed. He'll take the first watch if need be, but he's eager to visit Skie and the churches about a diamond.

"And such well equipped killers, Glimmil."

Were they here for me?

"Atol is right, we should raise the barkeep. Dyrant won't fit his loincloth without gristle stew."

Finneas will gently pick up Aroon and carry him to the temple of Cuthbert for Atol.

2d8 + 10 ⇒ (6, 1) + 10 = 17 healing on Dyrant

Dyrant watches the rookie cop eat the gristle and monitors the results. In addition, he will search the bodies for more of the poison, in case it is a necessary clue to revive Dr. Toffitt.

If the rookie does fine, Dyrant will help himself to another bowl as it might be his last chance at the fatty-chewy stew because the resurrection might not take.

Any knowledge on the unholy symbol?

Dyrant will canvas the area for anyone who saw anything or might know of the local Vecnan cult.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8 Diplomacy

Dyrant ponders the ring of counterspells and what magics to put inside.

The rookie gobbles up one bowl and heads back for another. He seems fine and no other patrons of the Slippery Eel are knocked out.

The holy symbol is Vecna.

The ring is charged with dispel magic.

There were a few unlookers, but no one of use. "Vecna? Isn't that an evil cult? My mom use to try to scare me with stories about them. They take kids wandering the streets and sacrifice them or turn them into zombies or something."

The city watch accepts the two corpses and the one woman (stripped of her magic items and holy symbol I presume).

The party eventually winds up standing in front of Jenya who goes to a safe and pulls out a few diamonds.

"When you left last time I decided to obtain a few of these. I was expecting it was going to be needed for one of you. While I know Aroon to be a good man, you will need to cover the cost of the diamond. I had to use church funds to secure these."

Any thing else tonight or do we move onto the next day?

"How did they get the poison into our stew without us noticing? Don't worry about the cost, we'll sell the gear the killers wore to help pay for it."

Glimmil nods at the plan to restore Aroon.

"These silly attackers had a lot of magic right? Perhaps Jenya will take them as a donation in exchange for the diamond she uses for Aroon?"

The gnome continues to pace anxiously since the attack, feeling that evil may still be lurking in Cauldron's shadows that require the coordinate efforts of the Cauldron Five.

As Finneas brings up the topic of poisoned stew, Glimmil stops and scratches his temple in thought.

"Maybe Aroon would know? Perhaps he hired someone new? He'd never do it himself, of course?"

Glimmil glances worriedly at Aroon's body.

If you'll recall, the party also was thrown a feast with all sorts of things. Only Dyrant had the stew.

Atol thanks Jenya for her impressive preparation and steps up with the 7,000gp. (I know I loaned a little to Toffitt, but I think I should still have enough in ready cash. The party can reimburse me later from the sales of the items.)

"I think, considering he sacrificed his life to save us, Aroon is likely innocent. And while he may have a story to tell, we should let him rest tomorrow. Coming back from the dead is a harrowing experience." Atol shudders.

Atol prepares Raise Dead, Restoration, and Heal for tomorrow.

- - -

The next day he will Raise Aroon and immediately restore one of his negative levels. He'll caution him to rest and simple exist for a day or so. "Don't let anything concern you. You're among friends here." Atol takes GREAT pride in casting the spells himself (presuming Jenya lets him). I am a priest!

He'll then return to the house and see what he can do for the good Doctor. He'll cast Heal on his withering form in the hopes of waking him from the induced catalepsy he suffers.

In the morning, another Ritual of the Cudgel: Penance is conducted within Dyrant's room. This time it is for Aralynn's failure. Dyrant swings his mighty AngelRelic, delivering the necessary cudgel work to the Archon to help the Archon atone for her failure.

Outside the room, some can hear wood hitting gear and cog in a ritual orgy of punishment.

"Aralynn, next time there is a @##!@##$%*$^ Priestess of #%@^&*@ Vecna in the room, you let #$%^%#$ people know!"

* * *

Dyrant will mourn over Aroon, worried for the man who makes stew.

Dyrant does not have many friends in this world, but the man with the stew would be among them if he counted such things (though the feeling might not be reciprocated).

In the end, Dyrant is pleased when Atol helps Aroon get back on his stew-making feet and will had his own prayers and wishes for wellbeing.

* * *
Dyrant wants the Ring of Counterspells and one of the lesser Rods of Megamagic Silence.

Atol and Dyrant return to the church in the morning while at least one of the others watches over Toffitt. The raising goes uneventfully compared to previous ones. The hole in his chest closes and Aroon opens his eyes as if he had been taken a nap.

"I always wondered what that would be like. How much of the Eel was destroyed?"

Atol is surprised by the quick recovery, but pleased. "The Eel is fine. Most of the damage was localized to the combatants. How do you feel? You'll likely be a little woozy for another week when I'll cast another spell on you to complete the process."

"Until then don't over do it. You've been mostly dead all day..."

"Uh, yeah, don't rush back to make more stew no matter how badly some people want it," Dyrant adds hungrily. "By the way, did you see who spiked our food? That's one thing we didn't figure out."

The cacophony of cellular transmutations and rebalancing humors is interrupted by light like a sun going nova, providing perhaps another much needed ingredient as animal man becomes something new. Something perhaps deathless, or nearly so. And it is perhaps also Atol, channeling holy energies into Toffitt.

Glimmil stands on his tiptoes as he awaits the results of Atol's divine healing of the doctor.

"Is he stirring? I can keep touching him more if you think that'd help, Atol?"

Glimmil's face twists in worry.

"He... doesn't look well. My Uncle Yizbiff once got really sick on a fishing trip. Turns out he had a bunch of little bugs that started nesting in his hair and mustache. They carried some sort of sickness."

Glimmil rustles around with one eye squinting at Toffitt's scalp.

"The bugs might be *really* tiny. Maybe we should shave him. Just to be sure?"

Glimmil, ever prepared at any moment, produces his shaving kit, complete with shiny mirror and looks to the others for approval.

"By the way, did you see who spiked our food? That's one thing we didn't figure out."

"Spiked your food? Obviously I didn't see who did it or I wouldn't have served it to you. Who it could be though is another matter. It doesn't seem as if the entire batch of stew was poisoned, so it had to be after it was scooped out and I did that. Always do for one of my best customers." He glances over at Dyrant.

"Let's see... Jordan was helping me out at the bar. He's a good kid though. Been working for me for years."

"Daniel was working the kitchen in the back. Sometimes he's got a waif or two helping him in the back, too. I don't recall who they were and they change so often it's hard to keep them straight."

"Then there's the barmaid, Alissa. Really, any of them could of done it. Heck, even someone sitting at the bar might've been able to put it on as I stacked the platters together before bringing them over. It was a busy night and I was rather distracted."

"I'm sure it was none of your staff or regulars. They're a wily bunch - I bet they did it while your back was turned at the bar. Do not concern yourself overmuch. Relax..."

Atol goes back to Doctor Toffitt and does the heal as previously mentioned. When it doesn't work as expected he becomes concerned.

"If they put him in some sort of coma such that he couldn't awaken and couldn't die, we may never be able to have him back."

Atol watches over his light breathing and considers what to do next. The possibility of a ritual slaying followed by a raise dead does cross his mind.

Atol watches over his light breathing and considers what to do next. The possibility of a ritual slaying followed by a raise dead does cross his mind.

The Church would completely agree with your assessment.

The eyes open. Not the same eyes. Where once had been an eerie cats eye is an iris to match the other. Two pale circles of faded gold. The skin's taken on a sallow hue, but otherwise looks relatively normal. If you felt his pulse, though, it'd feel slow.

"Attrahenti. Omnia viscera tabula praeterita et futura. Fibrae in omni anima requiescit. Sum ... esuriéntibus."

"Oh, hello, Atol. Have I been unconscious very long? Have you any scones? I'm famished."

Dyrant, seeing the abomination arise, rushes into the room wielding his mighty AngelRelic. The angelic look on Dyrant's face is in sharp contrast the unholy, mummified grin upon the ToffeeLich. Aralynn follows Dyrant into battle, exhorting Dyrant with angelic verses for his cause is just.

With several stout blows from the holy instrument delivered by the holy servant of a divine god, however, the abomination is felled. The angelic host cheers Dyrant as he holds his AngelRelic above his head to receive the deserved accolades for besting the abomination.

Dyrant bows in prayer, giving thanks to the higher source...

*snort*
*blink*
*blink*

Dyrant arises from his doze in his chair where he was watching Dr. Toffitt and pondering options to wake him.

"Oh...Dr. Toffitt...you're awake...good..."

As Glimmil hastily completes shaving the doctor's head, he takes note of the yellow tinge of his scalp.

"Is this a normal color? Oh, he's stirring... I told you it must've been little bugs in his hair!"

Glimmil drops a handful of the doctor's hair to the ground and takes several steps back, holding his breath as he watches the alchemist rise.

"Doc... how do you feel?"

Now he's going to stab Glimmil. Probably Dyrant too.

"How was your stew?"

Finneas appears unconcerned with the Doctor's transformation, given his own recent change.

Toffitt puts his hand to his head and sighs. If only I gave stink eye as well as Dyrant. "Why on earth did you think to cut off my hair?" He collects it up, looks at a follicle or two in the sunlight, and harumphs. "Interesting. The impurities found their exit in follicle as well as expectoration." He examines his slightly yellowed skin. "Healthy enough. Certainly mutagenic. Excellent."

His pale gold eyes glance over his friends and he smiles in a way that's mostly alive. "How long was it, then?"

"So, was it a good feast? What did I miss?"

"How long was it, then?"

"So, was it a good feast? What did I miss?"

Dyrant sighs deeply, wondering where to begin to explain what the Doctor had missed during his extended slumber/poisoning.

"Good feast? Good feast, Doctor?!?" Dyrant's ire is raised by the innocuous questions. "Assassins beset against us, first using poison to knock out me and you, and Atol momentarily. I was only saved by the quick thinking of Glim while you slept. An array of foes found our weakness and exploited it."

Dyrant's eyes travel to the bruised Aralynn.

"Somehow they snuck upon us and nearly killed us all. One of them had this symbol upon them." Dyrant produces the unholy symbol of Vecna. "Tonight, I shall ask Aralynn to speak with the Angelic Chorus to help find those who sought to kill us. But we will need more to find those allied against us. I think they fear the Cudgel's might in Cauldron."

Questions for Aralynn appreciated.

"Glim, I'll need you to talk to the common folk to see if you can find any leads. Atol, perhaps see what Jenya knows of Vecna or can uncover. Finn, uh...uh...help as you see fit. Doctor, we need quick action. Whatever you can do to discover, it is appreciated."

Glimmil's head bobs to affirm each of Dyrant's rants.

"Yes! We need answers. Maybe we could, err... coax one of our attackers into telling us who hired them? You know, with magic if necessary? Zones of truth, charms and such?"

Glimmil looks to the doctor, Dyrant and Atol with wide eyes, knowing their smarts and wisdom will help them uncover the next do-badder plotting against Cauldron and its heroes.

"Think you'd need something to speak with the dead Glimm, we didn't really spare any of them."

Finneas looks thoughtfully at his armor.

Maybe some green? Over the heart. That would set off the red.

The others will see him staring at his chest and flexing while they discuss matters of strategy.

"Maybe we could get some scones, Doctor? Since you missed the feast. What happened to your angel, Dyrant, I don't remember the half-orc beating her too. Does she share your wounds?"