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Slumbering Tsar Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Lord Manticore

This will be using Frog God Games' module "The Slumbering Tsar" to run a campaign through the Worldwound (and maybe beyond?).


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Male Elf Wizard 1

"One of the worst places to get drunk in all of Nerosyan!" - "Queen" Gallifrey

"How did I end in up in this unhappy place?" - Doctor Who-something (I dunno, he just kept calling himself the Doctor)

"Where are all the little duckies?" - Bonar the Barbarian

Welcome to our little hole in the ground, where the food is served up proper on sticks of bread, the ale is made from the finest rice, and the service is to die for (or maybe just died, who knows).

Come on in and sit for a spell, or cast a spell and sit on a hand!! We are not picky :)


Ruul had little trouble making his way through the otherwise well populated tavern. It seemed despite his friendly nature, most gave the minotaur a wide berth. With one large furred hand, Ruul waved the barkeep over and ordered his usual - a double-large tankard of cherry grog.

As the man left to fill the order, Ruul reached into the pouch attached to the rope securing his loincloth and produced a wand. He marveled at it, as he'd done a half a dozen time already today, taking in the wonder that was the Uncaring One's design. So small. So simple. So much power.

He was snapped out of his reverie as his order arrived.

The bull took a long draw and belched loudly and happily. He snorted and wiped the drink's foam from his bovine snout. Ruul looked around, wondering what other regulars from the Society he'd see tonight.

Ruul is a minotaur bull with soft fur the color of cocoa and a pair of sharp forward-facing rune-carved horns. Although almost piteously small by minotaur standards, he is bigger than most humanoids and his frame is packed with massive layers of brawny muscle. He carries little beyond a simple pack with essentials for his work as a Pathfinder and a heavy hide loincloth. Strapped across his back is a quarterstaff the size of a small tree.

He stands a little over seven feet tall and weighs around 450lbs.

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

Sighing at the lack of available tables, Lavinia takes a seat at the bar and waves over the man working behind it. "Excuse me sir, I'd like a glass of water please and bowl of whatever stew you have simmering in the kitchen, some toasted bread and some cheese if you don't mind."

Lavinia places some coins upon the counter to pay for her food as she turns to survey the rest of the bar. The first to catch her attention is the one that towers over her by a good two feet at least. When she realizes that she has been staring, she speaks to the minotaur to apologize.

"Please excuse me, I didn't mean to be rude by staring, but I have never seen one of your race before." She'll extend her hand to him in greeting. "My name is Lavinia, may I ask what yours is?"

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

How far we have travelled my friend - Calendir spoke softly to the huge feline lying down next to him.

Peering from afar at the soft light filtering through the inn's windows, stroking the back of Lagash's head, he could not help but feel that his steps had brought him here for a reason - he was not a boy anymore, and felt now that slowly but surely he was coming to terms with all the resentment that had fed him for so long.

Even if he he still had doubts, his steps had brought him unnerringly towards the Worldwound for the past 4 months, to where he had heard his father was last seen - Father... What a strange notion for someone that was never there... He had travelled almost exclusively through the wild, avoiding civilization almost completely, enjoying his time with his one and only true companion - Lagash.

But now the time had come to step forward, into that inn and whatever may lie beyond it - again that feeling that this may be something more... He cannot tell why, or if those are just ramblings of an outdoorsman that has been too far away from people for too long, but he understands the Wilds, and he understands the balance of Nature - as he got close to this place he could feel the uneasiness growing in him - a sensation of things amiss, or simply "wrong" as he gets closer to the Worldwound, something not to be explained but simply felt.

Enough stargazing huh? - he offered the big cat, knowing he would not answer back - I am off then, you behave while I am not around.

With a last pat, Calendir stood up and started towards the village, and the Inn. While he walked towards the light, Lagash let out a low growl and padded back into the darkness.


Ruul swallowed up the offered hand up entirely within his own and shook slowly. His grip was almost overly-gentle, as if afraid of breaking the girl's arm. A rich rumbling sound echoed from deep within the beast's powerful chest - laughter.

"Think nothing of it", the minotaur answers. "I have gotten quite used to it. You can call me Ruul, Ruul Spiritskin."

"Lavinia is a good name. A kind name, like that of a flower..." he muses.

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

Even though he had been feeling it from yards away, the smell of ale, both days old and just served, cooked meat, pipe tobacco and sweat invaded his nostrils when he opened the door to the Inn.

The mixture of sights and sounds was intoxicating and he just stood there for a moment, taking it in - from the couple embraced in the corner, passing by the half drunk halfling singing on the chair, to the porcelain skinned, beautiful woman shaking hands with... a MINOTAUR?! Wow Calendir, first time you set foot into a village in 2 months and you are already being surprised.

As the ranger walks up to the counter, he quickly double-checks the gathered patrons, to make sure he will not stand out too much - his attire is clearly that of an outdoorsman, earthly tones mixed in with dust from the road, a sword hanging at his waist and a finely crafted bow slung casually around his shoulder, crossing the two sets of quivers neatly adjusted to his spaulders.

Overall, it is not too hard to tell he has been on the road, but there seems to be a care for efficiency in how his equipment is packed and distributed about himself.

With a few words, he addresses the barkeep as he drops some coins on the counter - Some fresh ale please.


Male Elf Wizard 1

Raelc notices the pale beauty and the large minotaur creature talking and began to wonder what brought them to this dump. Every since he fell through that portal in Sharn two years ago, he has been stuck here, slinging hash and the occasional spell around trying to figure out what to do with his life. It certainly wasn't meant to be a short order cook to a bunch of military types (although his souffle was slowly becoming a local legend), and certainly not forever.

"Hello lady and gentleman," Raelc said with an impish grin. Despite his dark features (mostly grease, but there was some skin under there...somewhere), and obvious elven stature, it was clear that he was what passed for a cook around these parts. "Is there anything I can get for you besides small beers?" His accent is completely unfamiliar to you (Think Mr. Belevedere, only even more fussy), but still Common.

Before you have a chance to say anything, Raelc continues. "So are you here to join the Crusaders? I hear the miliary is hiring up for yet another crusade against,'at this, Raelc holds his hand up to his forehead in an obvious attempt at sarcasm, 'the relentless evil and their undead legions."


Female Ghoran Dread 1 -- HP 10 : AC 16 CMD 16 Touch 16 Flat 10 : scimitar+7; 1d6 : sling +6; 1d4 : F +4 R +5 W +2 : INIT +5 Perc +4 CMB +1

Scattered shouts and cries of panic drift in from the street into the crowded tavern. Townsfolk shutter their windows and bar their doors. A distant booming noise can be heard above the din of the common room, and a small, even vibration can be felt through the floorboards and bar. Dun... Dun... Dun... Dun... It grows louder, coming down the street outside the Happy Duck, and stopping at the nearest intersection.

"Why have we stopped?!" A small, feminine voice cries out in the sudden silence.

"OBSTRUCTION. OBSTRUCTION." A gravelly, hollow voice.

"What? I don't... Oh, move! Move, you stupid cow! Step over the dumb thing!"

"AFFIRMATIVE."

The booming begins again for several repetitions, seeming to move toward the tavern, then stops just outside.

"DESTINATION COMPLETE."

"Ah, excellent work, Mr. Pickles! Now you stay here. Assume guard protocol."

"AFFIRMATIVE, MAHAL."

Those who peek out the windows of the tavern see a bright-eyed young woman with hair the color of lavender petals, tightly gathered into a pair of pigtails. Her eyes are ocean blue, with small flecks of silver near the iris. Her skin is very pale, with years of scholarly work evident in her somewhat pasty complexion. She is dressed in a tight-fitting courtier's outfit - a brown and blue-trimmed three-quarter length coat, with breeches, vest, gloves, and collared white shirt - covered by a set of glittering scale mail armor. She is short and spindly, all elbows and knees, with a wiry frame and straight posture.

In stark contrast is the 16-foot-tall iron construct lumbering behind her. A mess of gears, rods, pistons, and gyros, the metal giant has exaggerated arms and shoulders with numerous studs and striking surfaces. Its face is an opaque rectangular screen, with a pair of eyes drifting back and forth as it surveys its surroundings. On its chest is a small plaque, reading, "Mr. Pickles."

The metal machine stands stoically outside the Happy Duck Tavern, while the young woman enters. She strides confidently to the bar and raises a hand. "One honeyed milk, please!" She takes a seat on the bar stool and sticks her hands flat underneath her bottom. She fidgets slightly, rocking back and forth as she cranes her neck to peer around the common room.

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

What a day indeed...

Noticing the gigantic creature approaching the doorway, Calendir had already drawn and strung his bow even before he could think about it, and was about to let fly two arrows through the window, until he saw the lithe girl coming in the front door.

He could not help but chuckle at himself for his reaction - Relax, not even here demons come swooping at you from every bend in the road, it is but a girl, accompanied by a gigantic...thing... - the chuckle actually turns to laughter as he realizes the situation.

Not being the strongest one at striking a conversation, he can however perceive a twig snap at about 40 paces in the woods, so he now focuses himself in eavesdroping on the conversations around him - trying to ascertain the nature of the inn's current customers, particularly conversations about crusades and undead legions.


Female Elf Witch (Winter Witch) 2| HP 15/15 | AC:14, T:13, F:11 | CMD:13, CMB:0 | Save (F+1, R+3, W+4) | Init:+3 | Perc: +4 (+6 with familiar)

The tan-skinned elf is drawn to the sound of the tramping feet of the mecha, curious beyond any caution, wondering if this is some sort of golem or possibly a Numerian Gearsman. She shyly peers at the impassive metal visage, then creeps into the tavern, seeking its young owner.

Seeing the unusual human girl, and sensing an intellect rivaling her own, Elen is overcome with nerves. She opens her mouth, and whispers, "Hello? Um... I don't mean to bother you but... err... Iwaswonderingifthatwasyourbigmetalthingoutside?" the question coming out in a rush of words as she adjusts her wire-rimmed spectacles and bites her lower lip in anxiety. Her eyes dart around the tavern, as if seeking allies, and she wonders what in Queen Telandia's name she is doing just coming up to someone new like this.


First levels: 2/4; THP:17/21; HP:43/43; MP:4/5
Stats:
HP:43 THP:21 / AC 17/21, T 11, FF 16 / Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +5 / Perception +2 / Initiative +3

Scuttling up the street is a strange looking creature. It appears to be a semi-opaque abberation constructed from body parts of various sea creatures. It sports two crab like legs, which are as translucent as glass. In between them, and acting as a third leg is a long fishlike tail that appears to only be covered in a thin layer of the translucent material. The torso is that of a man, except covered in a broad translucent chitinous exoskeleton. Both arms end in large lobster like claws inside which humanoid hands can be seen. The head is that of a shark-man with a large spined dorsal fin running from the top of the head down the spine. The back of his head and shoulders are covered in spines, like a blow fish's. On his forehead glows a subtle wave-like rune, barely noticeable at first glance. He is wearing a cloak, and a utility belt with some small objects in pouches and straps.

He appears to be singing a ballad, "Farewell and adieu to you, Taldan Ladies! Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Taldorrrrr! For we've received orders for to sail for the Wound, And we may never see you fair ladies again...." His voice is surprisingly good, Common with a Riverlander accent.

Coming upon Mr. Pickles, he squints at him for a moment before saying, "Ahoy there ye great metal beastie! Mr...Pickles? I'd sit on a cutlass for some pickles! Haven't got any have ye?"


Raelc Domson wrote:
Before you have a chance to say anything, Raelc continues. "So are you here to join the Crusaders? I hear the miliary is hiring up for yet another crusade against,'at this, Raelc holds his hand up to his forehead in an obvious attempt at sarcasm, 'the relentless evil and their undead legions."

Ruul is about to ask for a bowl of the stew Lavinia is enjoying when the elf mentions the crusades.

"Not crusaders", the bull answers with a shake of his thick mane. "Knowledge."

With that, he fishes out the wayfinder hanging from a cord around his thick neck, buried within his chest fur. He shows the Pathfinder badge of office to the inquiring elf.


Female Elf Kensai 1 | HP 9/9 {effects: none} | AC 15 (T15 FF10) | F+3 R+4 W+1 | Init +4 | low-light vision, perception +1

A young elf woman in an impeccable outfit moves smoothly along the walkway, seeming out of place in the dusty town.

She winces upon hearing the ballad. Goddess but I hate that song. Fitting for this filthy little village I suppose.

Upon rounding the corner, she stopped, her hand hovering over her rapier, as she witnessed the strange abberation and the large metal creature in front of the inn. What in the... Ahh, it's a suit. Perhaps a synthesist... and that... construct... Curiouser and curiouser, she thinks before relaxing slightly and continuing to to the building.


Male Fetchling Ninja

The Fortunate Foul? The Drunken Goose? The Happy Duck? Yes, that's it, a duck. That's what the Society contact said. Bao thought to himself. He had arrived yesterday and spent the day watching the normal village activity of Nerosyan. After the lobster-man and little girl with the machine-monster passed, he figured that it was time to arrive.

His average height, strawweight frame, and hunched gait attracted little attention. Shapes of a backpack, quiver and shortbow can easily be seen under his mud-splattered cloak with a hood that hid his bespectacled eyes in shadow. No one gave his two curved shortswords a second thought.

A casual observer saw a lost traveler needing a tavern after a long trek. Bao approached the Duck askew and apparently confusedly circled around the building starting with the back. When he slowly arrived at the front door behind the machine-monster, he had cataloged all of the doors and windows for potential improvised exits.

Bao pulled the front door open and entered. The dim interior light caressed him like a lover. He settled into a wooden chair against a wall at an unoccupied table. He didn't remove his hood or gloves as one would have expected from a weary traveler.

He waited for his Society contact or table service that probably would not come. Wow a minotaur? Never seen one at a bar before. This ought to be entertaining. He wondered.

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

Calendir took in each new arrival as they come in the door, one by one.

He had already spotted the minotaur's wayfinder hanging around his neck, and he was starting to ponder if other Pathfinders could be making their way to this far away inn - and the reasons why.

For the time being he would rather keep his intentions to himself, but it would prove useful to know more about this apparent assembly, and the the general status of Tsar, and why the Pathfinder Society would be interested in this region, besides the fact it is infested with demon and undead spawn that is.

From his part, his expertise in dealing with the foul unliving before would make perfect sense as a background reason to have him here, but it all seemed too straightforward - destroying undead is something he could carry out in many other areas of the world, it wouldn't make sense sending him here for that simple purpose...

I need to know more... Let's see if that barkeep moves away from the minotaur and the woman, so that i can approach him.

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

Well, I am certainly glad that one this big appears to be of a pleasant disposition. While Lavinia is about to ask what would bring a minotaur all the way up here, an elf steps and inquires if they are here to help in the crusades.

Lavinia also pulls out her own wayfinder. "Though the undead need destroyed, I too came here for knowledge. My name is Lavinia, I don't believe you introduced yourself yet?"

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

Another one... This cannot be a simple coincidence, something is afoot.

Calendir struggles with himself to fight his own ineptitude at starting a conversation and ponders how best to approach this.


Female Ghoran Dread 1 -- HP 10 : AC 16 CMD 16 Touch 16 Flat 10 : scimitar+7; 1d6 : sling +6; 1d4 : F +4 R +5 W +2 : INIT +5 Perc +4 CMB +1
Elen Emerwen wrote:
"Hello? Um... I don't mean to bother you but... err... Iwaswonderingifthatwasyourbigmetalthingoutside?"

Pinwheel raises a conspiratorial eyebrow, looks left and right, then leans in to the elven witch. "Yes. It is a Centurion-class bipedal mechanical armature. I call him Mr. Pickles." She leans back upright and drinks casually, flicking her eyes about to see if anyone was spying.


Macavity the black wrote:

The Fortunate Foul? The Drunken Goose? The Happy Duck? Yes, that's it, a duck. That's what the Society contact said. Bao thought to himself. He had arrived yesterday and spent the day watching the normal village activity of Nerosyan. After the lobster-man and little girl with the machine-monster passed, he figured that it was time to arrive.

His average height, strawweight frame, and hunched gait attracted little attention. Shapes of a backpack, quiver and shortbow can easily be seen under his mud-splattered cloak with a hood that hid his bespectacled eyes in shadow. No one gave his two curved shortswords a second thought.

A casual observer saw a lost traveler needing a tavern after a long trek. Bao approached the Duck askew and apparently confusedly circled around the building starting with the back. When he slowly arrived at the front door behind the machine-monster, he had cataloged all of the doors and windows for potential improvised exits.

Bao pulled the front door open and entered. The dim interior light caressed him like a lover. He settled into a wooden chair against a wall at an unoccupied table. He didn't remove his hood or gloves as one would have expected from a weary traveler.

Nguyen walked slowly and cautiously towards the tavern. It was not that he was nervous about entering the bar. In the 250 moons that he lived in this military fortification, he had gotten used to warrior types walking the streets, many of whom did not take of what they wanted. It was an interesting sight, given his childhood memories. No, it was the fact that is place served alcohol, and he hated being put into situations of temptations. He succumbed once, and was not sober again for almost half a moon, such was his desire. But, needs must, as his mentor told him.

Looking around, Nguyen was not sure if he would be able to spot anyone here. He was told to find a tall man of wiry stature, and that it was important to find him this evening, before he should meet with his peers at the Society lodge. Much information needed to be passed. Nguyen looked around and saw a couple of people that could be his contact, but he wasn't sure...

He waited for his Society contact or table service that probably would not come. Wow a minotaur? Never seen one at a bar before. This ought to be entertaining. He wondered.


Male Fetchling Ninja

Bao watched the circus mill about this odd tavern when an obvious Tien entered. In Tien, Bao asks loud enough for the new arrival to hear, "Do they serve tea here?"

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

While sipping on his ale, and making his best to peer into everyone's conversations around him, Calendir makes a mental recollection of what he knows of this land, trying to ascertain what may be the motive for the Pathfinder Society to want him here.

This place seems constantly on the edge - the proximity of the Worldwound and the palpable twist of the physical world it provokes, even from this far away, seems to bring about a mix of zealotry and despair which he does not recollect having found anywhere else - however, there they are in front of him, soldiers, adventurers, workers, all somehow managing to go about their "normal" lives.

And now you, sitting at the counter, drinking ale and wondering where to start... Calendir mused to himself.


Ruul looked on in surprise as the pale human girl revealed her own purposes. He let the wayfinder fall from his hand and settle back into the thick fur on his chest. He looked around curiously.

I think I've seen a few of these others at the Grand Lodge...

"Who else here hails from the Society?" the bull asked aloud.


Male Drow Noble Accountant 12/Monk 10
Macavity the black wrote:
Bao watched the circus mill about this odd tavern when an obvious Tien entered. In Tien, Bao asks loud enough for the new arrival to hear, "Do they serve tea here?"

Looking about, he hears his native tongue being spoken. It comes from the man over near the back. Nguyen approaches the stranger and speaks back in Tien "Tea here is nothing like back home. It is at best a bile substance, but these Western devils know nothing about true culture."

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

Damn, not like that... Calendir cringes when hearing the minotaur's rough voice, and the blatant question.

I have nothing to hide though.

Me - comes the answer from the ranger, slowly turning himself to face Ruul.

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

Lavinia looks around the tavern room as Ruul asks his question. Given the number of rather interesting looking individuals, she is willing to guess that there will be a decent number of hands raised.


Ruul Spiritskin wrote:

Ruul looked on in surprise as the pale human girl revealed her own purposes. He let the wayfinder fall from his hand and settle back into the thick fur on his chest. He looked around curiously.

I think I've seen a few of these others at the Grand Lodge...

"Who else here hails from the Society?" the bull asked aloud.

Looking around the bar, Pat wondered who was here for the rumors about the next Crusade against the devilspawn and who was here about the rumored expedition to Tsar. She had put in her application with the both the Society and her superiors in the military, but she had not heard from either. Maybe if I just take some Numerian leave and just go anyway, who could stop me?

At the sound of the minotaur, Pat's ears pricked up. He (it?) was a mouthy sort, but in this kind of dump, she guessed yelling was just as good as anything.

@Ruur, Lavinia, and the rest in earshot of Ruur - You see a female drow, that in and of itself is a rarity. Even more rare is the officer adornment that she wears, indicating that she was a Crusader, a lietuenant at that. She walks up to the minotaur, looking at him as if inspecting a subordinate. With practiced grace, she pops out a wayfinder from a concealed slot in her left forearm gauntlet.

"You do not like to waste time I see, minotaur. Are you hear because of certain rumors involving an expedition, perhaps?" It's a question made to the creature but she looks at others around him to ensure it was not a private conversation.

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

Calendir looks first at Ruul and Lavinia, and then makes sure to take in Ripley's attention, answering positively to her question with a clear nod and offering up his mug of ale.

Good, things are getting underway faster than I expected.

LT. Ripley just blew me out of the water with the Alien reference ;)

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

This must be a day of firsts for me. First time to meet both a minotaur and a drow. I wonder what's next?

Lavinia looks over the drow officer as she speaks. "That is indeed why I am here ma'am."

Noticing the man raising his mug in answer to the drow's question, Lavinia looks him over as well. Well, that one looks normal...


First levels: 2/4; THP:17/21; HP:43/43; MP:4/5
Stats:
HP:43 THP:21 / AC 17/21, T 11, FF 16 / Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +5 / Perception +2 / Initiative +3

Seeing neither pickles, nor response forthcoming Rasso trundles into the Happy Duck. He stops just inside the doorway and scans each face in the bar before decided where to go. He sees the group showing off their wayfinders and decides to head that. "Ahoy mateys! Fellow pathfinders I see. Name's Rasso, pleased to meet your acquaintance." He says, pulling out his own wayfinder with one claw, while offering the other for shaking. After getting everybody's name, he calls over a waitstaff. "Got any pickles in this place? There's a great metal man outside falsely advertising their presence."

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

Alright, that is most definitely another first. I'm not even quite sure what it is...

Lavinia takes in Rasso's appearance with a rather perplexed look upon her face. "Pleased to meet you as well. My name is Lavinia." She will cautiously shake his clawlike hand.

"This is looking to be a rather interesting grouping of Pathfinders here."

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

Slight change in character crunch for Calendir - fluff remains the same.

Ok, get in there and get acquainted - start asking questions.

Calendir stands up from his spot at the counter and heads to the small assembled group.

Greetings all, I am Calendir. Have you just arrived? - He outstretches his hand at the closest group member.


Ruul bows his horned head sharply and inspects the dark-skinned woman in turn.

"Skill with subtlety and falsehoods are not a strength of my kind", he answers. "I am here on behalf of Lady Ollysta Zadrian. I was told I would find others from the Society here and that there would be a task for us, unlike anything any of us have ever undertaken."

"I am glad so many have arrived already and safely", the minotaur finishes with a sweeping motion of one thickly muscled arm.


LOL the Lt. Ripley/Alien reference was actually unintentional, I was going for Ripley the famous explorer/"Believe It or Not! guy. But hey, who am I to look a gift face hugger in the mouth? :P

Wow, Pat thought, so many people, looks like I might be out of this one. Better to give them some parting intel so they won't die quickly.

"Mind if I sit down then? What I have to say may take a few minutes." Pat pulls up a chair, and as everyone rearranges themselves around the table, she gets the cook to order some of the good stuff from the inn's reserves and a quiche for herself (practically addicted to his eggs she thought)

"I understand that the Society has called you here as part of an expedition to the city or fortress known as Tsar?" Without waiting for answers she continues. "I was part of the original crusade to bring down the city itself, almost a century ago. I fought under Lady Zadrain's brigade as a platoon sergeant, as a matter of fact," nodding to the minotaur as the drinks arrive for all.

Shadow Lodge

Male Half-Orc Ftr1/Ranger lvl7 | HP 68 | AC 22 FF 16 T17 | Saves +11/+13/+6 | Init + 7 (+9 in Favored Terrain) | Per. +12

From all the surprising sights he has had so far, Calendir was definitely not expecting to be sitting at a table with a drow today.

Pulling up a chair, and awkwardly waiting for the ladies to sit down first, he will then quietly take his place around the table, signal the waiting girl for another ale and listen in silence.

Already missing his "cat", he reminisces momentarily about his travelling companion - Lagash would love to be here - all these different, new smells would drive him mad with curiosity.


Male Fetchling Ninja

Watching the Drow officer in his peripheral vision and listening to her words. Bao questions his instincts with the Tien.

"I'm recently arrived from the Petal District of Absalom where they serve very fine tea." Bao continues in Tien. "Do we have anything private to discuss? Because there's a party starting here."

I also tinkered with crunch.


duly noted Mac.

"Yes, we can move to a more private area of the tavern. There is much that I would like to pass on." Nguyen shifts to begin working his way to the back.


The first crusade? That would mean she's how old?

Ruul's big bovine eyes go wide in confusion.

Of course, she's drow. Despite their frail bodies, the fair folk live extraordinarily long lives...

The minotaur takes the offered beverage and drinks deeply.

"So you saw the site first-hand. What can you tell us?"


Female Elf Witch (Winter Witch) 2| HP 15/15 | AC:14, T:13, F:11 | CMD:13, CMB:0 | Save (F+1, R+3, W+4) | Init:+3 | Perc: +4 (+6 with familiar)
Pinwheel wrote:
Pinwheel raises a conspiratorial eyebrow, looks left and right, then leans in to the elven witch. "Yes. It is a Centurion-class bipedal mechanical armature. I call him Mr. Pickles." She leans back upright and drinks casually, flicking her eyes about to see if anyone was spying.

Elen gives a quiet giggle and, the ice broken, whispers further to the other young lady. "Ohhh, is it a golem? Or of Numerian make? Or gnomish tinkering? You look a little gnomish with the hair and all. That's a good thing, mind you, I like gnomes, they have such clever ideas at times."

Her inhuman, alien eyes flick to the inhuman form of the minotaur as he bellows out the challenge for all Pathfinders to reveal themselves. She clutches her wayfinder under her cloak, but is briefly paralyzed with nerves, finding herself too shy to declare herself. Then the announcement of the lady drow makes her even more anxious. Despite that she knows, intellectually, that it is possible (though rare) for a drow to abandon evil, she finds it very difficult to ignore the instinctive animus to this dark-skinned woman. She peers at the drow curiously, trying to determine if this is an enemy, despite her claim to be both a pathfinder and a part of the crusades.

Spoiler:
sense motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
+1 Wis, +2 Alertness from familiar, +2 ranks

She whispers to her Lyrakien familiar, who is nestled inside her robes enjoying snuggling up to her, asking her to turn her automatic detect evil ability towards the speaker.


Male Drow Noble Accountant 12/Monk 10
Elen Emerwen wrote:

She whispers to her Lyrakien familiar, who is nestled inside her robes enjoying snuggling up to her, asking her to turn her automatic detect evil ability towards the speaker.

Your familiar's detect evil ability does detect a few evil beings in the bar, but no emanations from either the drow or the people around her.


First levels: 2/4; THP:17/21; HP:43/43; MP:4/5
Stats:
HP:43 THP:21 / AC 17/21, T 11, FF 16 / Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +5 / Perception +2 / Initiative +3

Rasso grasps Lavinia's outstretched hand with the webbed humanoid one inside the larger claw. The flesh is warm and soft, feeling surprisingly human. "Pleasure to meet you. So, if we're all Pathfinders, where's the venture captain?" He releases her grip after one gentle pump, looking around at the others. "They obviously wanted a lot of senior agents in one place. Yarr..lets listen to what the dark elf has to say." Rasso says, skittering closer to the Drow.


Female Elf Witch (Winter Witch) 2| HP 15/15 | AC:14, T:13, F:11 | CMD:13, CMB:0 | Save (F+1, R+3, W+4) | Init:+3 | Perc: +4 (+6 with familiar)

So the stories of uncorrupted drow are true... muses Elen, keeping an ear on the conversation (easy enough with the Taur's basso profundo voice) as she continues her curious questioning of the lavender-haired machinist.

She reaches into her backpack, which is decorated with an embroidered butterfly in silver and purple thread, and retrieves a shiny metal tea strainer and a metal tin, and asks the barkeep for some boiling water (she has to ask three times before she reaches an audible volume).


Female Elf Kensai 1 | HP 9/9 {effects: none} | AC 15 (T15 FF10) | F+3 R+4 W+1 | Init +4 | low-light vision, perception +1

Kallistiel, having been shocked to see a drow in the vicinity, calms herself upon hearing the ensuing conversation, and moves to the bar to order a wine before heading to the table with the other Pathfinders. She pulls out a kerchief and attempts to dust the chair, frowning. She grabs a barmaid, and mutters to her, refusing to let her go until the stain upon the seat had been thoroughly scrubbed, at which point, Kallistiel releases the maid and tosses her a silver piece.

She then pulls the chair over to the group, lays the kerchief over the seat and rests upon it.

"Indeed, it seems we have a large group here to attend to the site. Any information that can be imparted would be welcome."


Half-Orc Cleric 6 of Groteus AC 21/ f f20/ t11, HP 38/38, F8/R4/W11

Thanks for having me. Before I finsih the equipment, I've got a few questions on the prestige points that I will pm to you later today.

Hmm... So this be nother of those places.

Belike someone or somemany needing good news of ending.

Gronk takes a seat off to the side to see what is happening. While waiting he will take a meal of whatever food and drink is cheapest.


Male Fetchling Ninja

Bao nods to the Tien and gets up to follow him to the more private area of the tavern. He stays in character as a normal traveler occasionally slightly jostling a table or making a board creak with noise. With all of the active circus creatures in the tavern, he passes without notice.

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

Lavinia will take her food and drink over to the table the drow officer is sitting at and settles herself into one of the chairs. "I would be fascinated to hear a first-hand account of the battle. Did you have any maps made of the parts of the city your platoon saw?"


Duly noted Gronk, Ill keep an eye out for it.

"I have lived nearly four centuries, and I'll live at least four more, Sarenrae grant. But in all that time, I will never have seen such a terrible place as Tsar. The things that the damnable "Grand Cormu" threw at us I still can't describe in a sober frame of mind." Saying that, Pat took a pull from her flagon, almost draining it in two gulps. She signals for more, the cook knowing that the drink would need to keep coming until she had to be practically carried out.

"They...those outside of Mendev, that is, called that first Crusade 'the Army of Light.' It was anything but holy and light, I can tell you. Perhaps it was that way at first; General Zelkor certainly had the priests and oracles out, blessing everyone within sight." Pat drains her flagon as the new one is set down. She seems lost in thought as Raelc wonders how fast he can get the lt. another flagon before she becomes maudelin. Judging by the rapt faces, he thinks, it's probably already too late.


Macavity the black wrote:
Bao nods to the Tien and gets up to follow him to the more private area of the tavern. He stays in character as a normal traveler occasionally slightly jostling a table or making a board creak with noise. With all of the active circus creatures in the tavern, he passes without notice.

His mentor had told him where the secret rooms were in the tavern. It wasn't so much of a secret, as just a more quiet place to hold conversations. Many a military patrol had been plotted out in these back rooms. Nguyen walked back though the kitchen, nodding to the cook and asking in Tien for some tea and a quiche. In broken tongue, the cook replies,

"No eggs now, you want stew?

"No Dumbson, just tea."

With a scowl, Domson quips to you, "You friend want tea also?


Ruul shifts uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of its ability to bear his ponderous weight. He listens intently to the drow's story.

"Go on", the minotaur mutters with a hearty rumbling.

Shadow Lodge

Female Dhampir Oracle / 1

Seeing the drow already on her second flagon within mere minutes of entering the tavern, Lavinia motions over to the server maid and makes quiet request, trying not to interrupt anything being said. "Could you please bring some stew and bread to those seated at this table please?" Lavinia passes some coin to the maid, being sure to include a tip for her troubles.

She really shouldn't be drinking like that on an empty stomach. It really isn't good for you and I doubt we'd get too much information from her if she passes out drunk on us...


Male Fetchling Ninja

Bao replies to Domson's question with a smile, a nod, and extending two fingers. He continues to follow the Tien through the kitchens like a panther in pigs clothing.

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